


a starlight night

by nuest95s



Series: words we left unsaid [1]
Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: 2hyun - Freeform, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Office, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Heavy Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Some sexual stuff, also 2hyun have no idea how to communicate lol, and 2hyun are fake bfs to maintain minhyun's Dignity, dongho's minhyun's ex, most pledis idols are background characters of some sort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 14:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12191997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuest95s/pseuds/nuest95s
Summary: minhyun and jonghyun fall into each other's lives too quickly and don't know how to ask the other to stay. title from nu'est's song, look (a starlight night)





	1. the power of coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a p long office/fake dating au but i think the main focus is the angst! there is some fluff so dw.. this chapters mainly just an intro to plot points and such so completely angst free :D

It was 7:28 in the morning and Jonghyun had yet to consume his daily caffeine, which was probably indicative of the headache-inducing day that was to follow.

He had pulled an all-nighter in his office trying to settle with a client who had seemed to think that aliens were trying to send her signs through the reams of paper his company, Pledis Paper Co., had manufactured. She was convinced that by contacting _him,_ the alien mother ship would deem her ready to progress to stage two. That was where things got messy. Every time he attempted to inquire what exactly the ominous ‘stage two’ was she began to ramble in a gibberish language that reminded him vaguely of Pig Latin. At around 5AM he had decided to take extreme measures, crinkling a piece of paper next to the receiver and making noises he hoped were similar to those of tractor beams. Then he hung up and blocked her number before sending an email to the entire branch telling them to block the number too.

It was true he was in customer service and the main focus of that was to, you know, make customers happy. But something had to be said about how far one could go to make someone happy.

The door swung open just as Jonghyun was laying his head back, accidentally slipping into another nap. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the tall figure who was holding what seemed to be a coffee tray in his hands. Thoughts ran through his head as he tried to identify the figure as well as eliminate the possible suspects. Before he could come to a conclusion, the figure set down a cup in front of him. He tried to take it in his hands, and found himself unable to get a good grip at which point the figure nudged it closer to his lips and he took a sip. He frowned around the cup. It was exactly how he liked it, black with two sugars. He tightened his hand and attempted to tip more coffee into his mouth as if that would reveal the identity of the figure.

“Slow down, Jonghyun,” Minhyun cut in, laughing. “You’re going to choke at this rate.”

His mouth moved to shape the other’s name but was unable to get far around his mouthful of coffee. He swallowed and squinted once more. “Why are you here early?”

Minhyun pouted. “I’m allowed to be early. I’m allowed to bring you coffee. I’m just being a good employee.”

“I… never said you weren’t allowed to,” he managed. Minhyun’s face was far too much to deal with this early in the day. “But usually one of the interns gets it. And usually you’re two hours late. I was just… surprised.”

“Well, surprise!” he said, as enthusiastic as ever. Something unknown tinged the edge of his voice. Jonghyun struggled to place it but his mind was still processing the caffeine heaven he’d been handed.

He took another long sip to calm himself and found it exactly the right temperature. Damn Minhyun. “How do you know how I like my coffee?”

“Seokmin told me,” he chirped. “Then Chan told me to spit in your coffee. I didn’t, of course.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he repeated, still trying to organize his thoughts. He blinked twice, took another sip and found the cup empty. Releasing a long suffering sigh, he placed it on the table and squinted at Minhyun’s still blurry face. “Why are you here, Minhyun-ssi?”

The other affected an innocent expression. “I have no idea what you’re on about, JR-ssi.”

“Don’t call me that,” he replied automatically, rubbing his temples. “But really, cut the bullshit.”

Minhyun deflated. “I need a favor.”

“Kinda discerned that from the perfect coffee, perfect face, perfect timing. What kind of favor?”

An expression bordering dread, shame, and anxiety flickered over his face. “I’m not even sure if I should ask this of you…”

Jonghyun wrinkled his nose. “You can’t leave me out now, I’m curious.” He put a hand over Minhyun’s in the stereotypical comforting boss manner. “If it’s anything I can help you with, I’ll try. After all, this coffee possibly just saved my life.”

The other relaxed visibly. “Okay. I… My ex-boyfriend is in town? And he has a new boyfriend. And he wants to meet up for lunch. And I’m having a fucking breakdown, because I’m _obviously_ over him, you know, but I’m not dating anyone right now. In fact, I haven’t really dated anyone since we broke up. But I’m over him. One hundred percent. You know?”

Jonghyun nodded sagely. “I know.”

A smile quirked at the edge of Minhyun’s mouth. “So, you know. He just texted me about twenty minutes ago and asked if I wanted to have lunch today. And I, being a fucking dumbass, agreed because I had just woken up and there was his fucking name on my phone display and I was going to agree even if he had told me to circumnavigate the globe on a log raft in 20 days.” He took a deep breath, obviously preparing himself for something. Jonghyun watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down before moving his gaze back up to his eyes. “I’m really sorry to ask this of you, Jonghyun-ssi, but is there any way you could pretend to be my boyfriend for,” he looked down at his phone for a second, “An hour and twenty eight minutes?”

Jonghyun took a moment to process this information. Minhyun wasn’t a particularly unattractive man, in fact, as men went, he was possibly one of the most attractive. Though the interns had tried their hardest to keep him out of the loop, he knew of their monthly visual ranking of the entire office. Minhyun often placed first, though once he had placed second to Moon Junhwi-ssi, who had promptly quit the next week out of shame. It didn’t hurt that Minhyun was funny, courteous, and an employee Jonghyun trusted fully. So, logically, there was no reason for Jonghyun not to help him out.

Maybe it was because of the early morning and how much caffeine he’d consumed. Maybe it was because it had been nearly eight years since he’d graduated high school and he still hadn’t acquired basic common sense. Maybe it was because of how Jonghyun still couldn’t see his room properly but still managed to see Minhyun’s smile clearly. Jonghyun opened his mouth to apologize, to tell him to find a cute intern and coerce him into accompanying him. Instead, he said, “Sure.”

Minhyun’s eyes widened into saucers, and Jonghyun had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “Really?”

He took another deep breath, if only to convince himself he was making the right choice, and said, “Yes, really. It’s not even that long. I just expect you to be on time for the next month, got it?”

Minhyun grinned. “Got it.”

 

—

 

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of insane customers and intern antics. At one point, Nayoung had come in and told him that Seungkwan was trying to erect a fort of paper cups and coffee cans in the break room to protect himself from Chan. Jonghyun had blinked slowly a couple times before eventually managing a quiet plea to take them out for ice cream, which seemed to subdue the issue.

At 11:58, Minhyun burst into his room, looking rather harried. “We need to leave in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” Jonghyun jumped in his chair. “I need to get changed. Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Minhyun gestured to the dried flour on his neck, managing an urgent, “In-

“-terns,” Jonghyun finished. “I get it, I’ll be out soon, clean yourself up. I’ll call a taxi, write down the address here.”

They met outside in fifteen minutes, because neither of them could keep time. Pledis Paper Co. Seoul was a diminutive building of only five floors, which was fairly explanatory of the company’s financial situation. Minhyun was dressed in a thick olive cable knit sweater and jeans with far too many holes for a twenty eight year old man. Jonghyun had opted for red and black flannel, worn blue jeans, and a black baseball cap.

Minhyun snorted. “You look like a thief.”

Jonghyun made a noise of protest. “I’m your _boss.”_

“No,” he said, smiling in a way that made Jonghyun’s stomach wring inside out. “Not right now. We’re just two guys standing five feet apart on the sidewalk because we’re not gay.”

Jonghyun pulled a hand out of his pocket to sock him in the arm but Minhyun backed away, laughing. His expression flattened out quickly, though, and he said, “Jonghyun-ssi, are you gay?”

The aforementioned man spluttered loudly, a cherry red blush spreading over his cheeks. “I-I am not gay, for your information, Minhyun-ssi. I’m bisexual, however, so this meeting should work out.”

“Oh, what a relief!” Minhyun said, having the good sense to sound a bit ashamed when he added, “Sorry if that was a bit personal.”

“N-No,” Jonghyun managed. “It’s fine, we should know at least this much about each other for the lunch today.”

The taxi chose to pull up at that moment, and Minhyun held the door open as he ducked into the dark backseat. A popular American song was playing on the radio and it vibrated against Jonghyun’s sleep deprived eardrums. Thankfully, the driver turned it down quickly and lurched the car into gear.

“My name’s Aron, I’ll be your driver for this trip.” His voice crackled through a speaker in the top right. Without another word, he sped off down the crowded alleyway.

It was a bumpy ride, to say the least. Jonghyun found himself being tossed into the crook of Minhyun’s side often, and attempting frantically to pry himself off the other before Aron hit another speed bump.

They spent the little time they were given effectively cramming the other’s head with knowledge of their lives and their fake relationship.

They got to the restaurant in time, at least, exactly thirty seconds before they were supposed to. Jonghyun went to open the door, but let the knob fall back after seeing Minhyun’s troubled expression.

“Loitering is a crime,” Jonghyun warned him lightly, in a vain attempt to distract the man from whatever was on his mind.

“Ever the law abiding citizen, I see, Jonghyun-ssi,” he replied with no real bite to his words. He heaved a long sigh and Jonghyun put a hand on his shoulder. Minhyun looked up at him, scrutinizing his eyes carefully, searching for something. Jonghyun held his breath and let him. Time passed, seconds or minutes he couldn’t tell. And then a split second of some unknown emotion flickered on his face, and he broke out in a casual smile before brushing past Jonghyun as if nothing had occurred. Minhyun glanced over his shoulder and offered him a hand. “Let’s go.”

Jonghyun took it without thinking, still trying to settle his mind. Inside, the air was saturated with the odor of fried food and alcohol. Jonghyun frowned at Minhyun. “A chicken and beer place this early in the day?”

“It’s never too early to get drunk.”

“You’re a lightweight and we have work.”

His smile slipped. “That’s a fair point. Dongho picked it out and I just went along with it because it was 7 in the morning. We can drink water.”

“Ah, water and beer, the classic combination.”

“Where did Jonghyun the comforting boss go?” Minhyun asked dramatically with no small amount of melancholy, looking around as if he had lost something important.

“Like you said, Minhyun-ah,” Jonghyun replied, ignoring the skip of his heart at the loss of formality. “We’re just two guys standing a couple inches apart because we’re in a homosexual relationship.”

Minhyun struggled to speak, cheeks flushing. “That is most definitely _not_ what I said. In fact, that is perhaps the _farthest thing possible_ from what I said.”

Jonghyun put a hand to his mouth to hold back his laughter, and Minhyun burst out in laughter in response. After a few seconds of that, Minhyun looked down the aisle of the restaurant. A man sat with his back to them, though his burly physique and black hair was visible. Another man with wavy blond hair brushed past them and sat down beside him. Minhyun was expressionless, but Jonghyun had seen enough of his presentations to sense his anxiety.

Filled with some kind of rash protective instinct that possibly mirrored the kind that mothers had when they drove to the school district office to complain on behalf of their children, Jonghyun laced his fingers through Minhyun’s and began a brisk walk down the aisle. Minhyun made a muffled noise of confusion but Jonghyun looked behind him and gave him what was hopefully a reassuring half-smile. Judging by the following gulp, it was neither.

Jonghyun sat down in the seat opposite the man who he assumed was Dongho. Minhyun stood behind the other seat uncertainly, twisting something uncomfortably in Jonghyun’s stomach. He got up quickly and pulled out the chair for him. Minhyun, who seemed to be processing life at a very slow rate, looked down at the chair and back at Jonghyun and back at the chair.

Jonghyun leaned forward, “Sit down or your ex’ll have to call the restaurant staff and get you a kiddy chair.”

This seemed to move Minhyun out of his reverie and he pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but do the same, and found Dongho observing the exchange intently from the other side of the table. This sobered him considerably, and the smile dropped from his face as he sat back down.

They sat in silence for an awkward second before Dongho and Minhyun opened their mouths at the exact same time and decisively shut them at the same time as well. The blond man rolled his eyes. “Seriously, it’s like none of you have had lunch with your ex-boyfriend before!”

Jonghyun had to bite back his response, choosing to raise his eyebrows instead, hoping that conveyed his disdain. He surveyed the man in front of him—he had delicate features but a somewhat threatening countenance. Jonghyun had the urge to squeeze Minhyun’s hand again.

This was insane. The fact that he, Kim Jonghyun, a twenty eight year old man that had only gone out on a handful of dates on his entire life, was now sitting with one of his _employees,_ trying to convince their ex that they were dating, it was just frankly insane.

Minhyun caught his gaze and leaned forward. “One hour and 24 minutes left. See if you can stop looking so constipated?”

A small breathy laugh left his mouth and the look of sheer horror on Minhyun’s face nearly made him burst out in laughter. His stomach did a backflip— so that was why he was here, despite the insanity of it.

They glanced back at the other couple, which was staring and making judgments of their own. Jonghyun was sure he had never seen Dongho’s real eye color because of how often he squinted at him.

“So,” Dongho said.

“So,” Minhyun repeated. Jonghyun and the blond guy exchanged a look. It was equal parts assessing each other and affectionately teasing their boyfriends—fake boyfriend in his case.

“My name’s Jeonghan,” the blond guy said, when it become apparent that Dongho and Minhyun weren’t budging any further than that.

“I’m Jonghyun,” Jonghyun said, stretching his hand across the table. Minhyun and Dongho looked at their handshake and then at each other.

“This is my boyfriend,” Dongho and Minhyun blurted out at the same time gesturing to the others, before locking eyes in mortified horror.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but laugh.

A young, pretty waitress in her early 20s came up to them. “Hi! My name’s Kyla, how can I serve you today?”

Jonghyun opened the menu and glanced over at Minhyun. If he had another hour and twenty minutes in the restaurant in this façade that he’d never carry on again, he’d make the most of it. “What do you want to order, honey?”

Minhyun nearly spit out his water, but across the table, Dongho’s detective glasses were back on and he looked like a kindergartener with astigmatism. Minhyun’s cheeks flushed, and he whispered, “Honey?”

“Honey,” Jonghyun repeated firmly, before returning to the menu. In a louder voice, he continued, “The 32 piece meal looks good.”

“We have _work.”_ Minhyun whined, shooting frantic glances at the other couple. Jeonghan had snaked his arm through Dongho’s and was peeking over his shoulder to look at his menu. Dongho didn’t seem alarmed at this, so Jonghyun assumed Jeonghan was simply always this clingy. Minhyun, however, deflated slightly. It was the sort of deflation that he often saw in Eunwoo when the snow cone machine broke.

Jonghyun pinched his inner wrist. This was going subpar—one might even go as far as to say it was going terribly. He literally worked in the business of keeping others happy, and yet there Minhyun was, looking like someone had stuffed his childhood stuffed animal into a wood chipper.

“Minhyun-ah,” Jonghyun said in what was supposed to be a firm voice. Minhyun glanced over, something akin to bemusement appearing on his face. “I know you haven’t eaten well lately, so I’ll order the meal and you can take a break when we get back to the office.”

This provoked multiple reactions from the table. Jeonghan looked amused, Dongho looked horrified, presumably at Minhyun’s apparent lack of nutrition, while Minhyun’s expression was simply indescribable. His eyes were unfocused for a split second, but he quickly grounded himself. He plastered a look of shocked enthusiasm on his face. “Really?”

Jonghyun smiled, and bit the back of his cheek to keep from cringing at what he was about to say. “Anything for you, honey.”

Minhyun’s hand tightened on the edge of a hole on his jeans. “I’ll pay next time.”

Dongho cleared his throat. “Not to interrupt that heart warming scene… But since I invited you two out it’s only fair that I pay.”

“No, I insist,” Jonghyun replied, flashing his customer service smile. Dongho, temporarily blinded, backed down, though Jeonghan shot him a knowing look.

The waitress, Kyla, who had been observing the entire exchange with growing amusement, tapped her foot. “So have you decided what you’re going to get?”

Minhyun looked at Jonghyun—his expression was once again unreadable, some strange mixture of his usual warm confidence and the foreign emotion he had turned on him before. “Let’s get the meal.”

A smile flickered at the edge of Jonghyun’s mouth. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d originally thought. He turned to Kyla and rattled off the order, adding a couple dessert items he thought Minhyun would enjoy.

On the other side of the table, Jeonghan and Dongho were still intensely discussing the meal. Kyla turned her piercing gaze on them and Jonghyun swore Dongho audibly gulped. Jeonghan, however, gave her a wide smile that reminded Jonghyun of the protagonist of the Nightmare Before Christmas. “We’ll take number thirteen and a Caesar salad.”

Kyla smiled thinly. “This is a chicken and beer store. We don’t make Caesar salads, sir.”

Jeonghan pouted. “And you can’t make one on the spot? What terrible customer service.”

Kyla’s cheeks pinked. Dongho looked like he wanted to hide behind his bedframe. He stuttered, “W-we don’t need the Caesar salad, just number thirteen would be great, thank you.”

The waitress wrote down the order with a tight expression and then spun around and returned to the kitchen. Minhyun let out a wheezing laugh and looked over at Jeonghan. “Really?”

An almost feline smile of pride curled Jeonghan’s lips. “It’s just what I do.”

Dongho scowled. “What you do is piss off the staff of every restaurant we go to. I wouldn’t be _proud_ of that.”

They passed the rest of the time before the food arrived like that—casual banter to mask the quiet reconstruction of each others’ lives. Minhyun had seemed to relax more outwardly, but his hand was still curled tight on the edge of the hole on his jeans. It agitated Jonghyun the customer service employee greatly, and he ached to lace his fingers through Minhyun’s and pull them out.

As if he had sensed his thoughts, Minhyun glanced up at him, offering a silent question. Jonghyun declined to answer and instead asked Jeonghan what his favorite Popsicle flavor was.

In a matter of minutes, the food arrived, with Jeonghan’s iced tea hopefully untouched by the saliva of the cooking staff. Jonghyun picked apart a piece of chicken with his hands, hissing at the heat. Minhyun glared at him. “Don’t touch hot food.”

Jonghyun snorted at the almost maternal gesture before offering a strip of chicken. “Say ah.”

Dongho maked a strangled noise around his ice water.

“They _feed_ each other?” he whispered loudly into Jeonghan’s ear and Jonghyun just barely managed to keep in his laughter.

Minhyun’s eyes were glued on the piece of glazed chicken. “Ah?”

“Yes, you dumbass,” Jonghyun said affectionately. “Say _ah._ Now hurry up, my fingers are going to burn and it’ll be all your fault.”

Minhyun reluctantly opened his mouth, and Jonghyun leaned forward and placed the chicken on his tongue. He closed his mouth around the food too quick, and Jonghyun’s index finger slid out slower than it would’ve. Jeonghan made a muffled comment about PDA to his faint boyfriend.

When Minhyun looked up at Jonghyun, his eyes danced with humor. Jonghyun thought that maybe a little saliva on his finger is worth that. After he finished chewing, he whined, “That was too hot!”

“What do you want me to do, blow on it?” Jonghyun retorted.

“Please don’t,” Dongho begged. “Please wait until you get home to blow on his food.”

Jonghyun, Jeonghan and Minhyun shared a look of mutual amusement over this before bursting out into laughter. Jonghyun leaned forward and whispered, “Is the feeding too much?”

“I think it’s just enough,” Minhyun replied, voice tinged with laughter. “Though if you cut my cake for me, I think Dongho’s going to have a stroke.”

Jonghyun took this into consideration and decided against it. All in all, the lunch did go slightly over an hour and twenty-eight minutes, though Jonghyun didn’t mind much. The worst part was when Kyla had handed them their bill with the glee of the wronged.

“How many 0s is that, Minhyun?” Jonghyun had said faintly.

“Several 0s,” Minhyun said somberly. “Are you sure you want to pay?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Jonghyun said, trying to manage a loving smile. “Anything for you, right?”

It was one day, one afternoon, a bit over one hour, and Jonghyun had made the most of it.

The early autumn air stung them as they exited the restaurant. Dongho smiled at them amiably. “I’ll see you guys around town. It was nice seeing you again, Minhyun.”

Minhyun grinned back. He seemed to be much more comfortable with his ex now, which relieved Jonghyun to no end. “Me too. Have a safe trip home, you two!”

Jeonghan blew him a kiss and linked his arms with Dongho. “Take care, lovebirds.”

Jonghyun and Minhyun glanced at each other before simultaneously starting to say, “We’re not—“

But the others had already left.

Jonghyun stared after the empty spot they had left, and when he looked back, Minhyun was looking at him. His gaze was intent; almost mirroring the one he had right before they’d entered the restaurant.

“Thank you,” he said, voice almost frightening in its sincerity. “I really needed that.”

“What are bosses for?” Jonghyun said dumbly. There was many things bosses were for, actually, and none of them included fake significant others, yet here they were.

The edge of his mouth quirked in a smile. “Was the coffee really that good?”

“The coffee was spectacular,” Jonghyun assured him. Minhyun exhaled slowly, avoiding his eyes.

“How did you know?” he said suddenly.

“Know what?”

“That I haven’t been eating lately. None of the interns noticed.” His words were strong, his gaze blank, yet unyielding.

“What are bosses for?” he repeated, before allowing a smile. “But really, if I hadn’t noticed a detail like that, would I even be qualified to deal with the interns?”

The intense look slipped off of Minhyun’s face, replaced with his ever constant smile. “That’s true. Thanks again, for helping out today. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” Jonghyun said truthfully, ignoring the sinking in the pit of his stomach.

Minhyun laughed and checked his phone. “You don’t need to lie. Though we should get back now. Don’t worry, this was a one time thing—I doubt even coffee could convince you to come out with me again.”

“I don’t know,” he smiled. “I’d do a lot of things for coffee.”

He didn’t say: I’d do a lot of things if you asked me to.


	2. now you know it's really gonna blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda a filler chapter tbh... it has some important set up but for the most part, Things Start next chapter! sorry!!! i'll try to update soon :D btw the chapter title's from lorde's homemade dynamite

Minhyun went home late that day.

He was fairly well known in the office for being late and leaving early and still being able to stay on top of all his work. There was no real reason for why he spent so little time in the office. The people were great, the work was doable, the boss was hot. Minhyun chalked it up to commitment issues.

The interns had been especially antsy earlier. Hansol and Seungkwan had taken turns flickering the lights on and off until Jihoon dangled Hansol’s game console out of a window. It had taken everyone far longer to pack up and leave the building, and there was a buzzing hum in the air once they’d left. It reminded Minhyun of cicadas.

Minhyun sat there for a few minutes, soaking in the hum and the silence that surrounded it. He hadn’t often moments like this— he didn’t allow them. He glanced into the other room—Jonghyun’s office. He could hear the faint clacking of Jonghyun’s jittery caffeine addled fingers. It brought a smile to his face for some reason.

There was a quiet slam and then Jonghyun poked his head out. The whites of his eyes shone in the dim light of the late evening. “Aren’t you going to go home, Minhyun-ssi?”

The honorific hit his stomach like an anvil. Minhyun forced a smile. “I was just about to. Just smelling the roses.”

Jonghyun wrinkled his nose. “What roses? All I can smell is Kyungwon’s leftover pastry.”

Minhyun bit his lip to keep from laughing. But he couldn’t keep the note of concern out of his voice when he said, “Don’t stay too late. I’m not buying you coffee again.”

Jonghyun’s smile flickered. “Wasn’t expecting it. And you’re right; I should get some sleep tonight. Want to walk out together?”

Minhyun tightened his hand around the seam of his work slacks. “Y-yeah. That sounds good.”

A couple papers drifted off the edge of his desk, and Jonghyun just barely caught them. He grinned up at Minhyun, looking surprisingly youthful. Minhyun often forgot they were the same age—Jonghyun seemed more… on top of things. He seemed like a functioning adult, which was kind of admirable in someone who ran an office this hectic.

Minhyun snapped out of this reverie and accepted the papers from Jonghyun, slipping them into his bag without meeting his eyes. Jonghyun didn’t notice—he was cleaning up the office, throwing away small bits of trash. Minhyun watched him—once he almost met Jonghyun’s gaze and he looked away, sliding out of his chair and standing by the old rickety elevator. As Jonghyun came to stand by him, Minhyun leaned forward and pressed a few buttons, ignoring the space between them, or rather the lack of it.

“Minhyun-ssi,” Jonghyun said quietly, as Minhyun pressed the last button, jerking him back.

“Yes, Jonghyun-ssi?” Minhyun asked. Jonghyun had never allowed them to call him boss or anything of the sort, spouting some bullshit about cultivating hierarchy in the office. But when Minhyun looked over at him, he looked very little like a boss.

His eyes were almost closed. He seemed youthful—not the carefree enthusiasm of before, but a wavering uncertainty hung around his lashes. His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he spoke nothing more, but entered the elevator.

Minhyun stayed back, staring at the space he’d left until Jonghyun whistled once, low and rattling. He looked up. Jonghyun met his gaze, blank but unflinching. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” Minhyun managed. “I’m coming.”

The elevator ride down was stiff and uncomfortable. The musty air scraped at Minhyun’s nostrils. Jonghyun fidgeted with the edge of his fraying suit jacket, unraveling and twisting the threads together. Minhyun put his hand over Jonghyun’s without looking up, stopping him mid-motion. “Don’t do that.”

Jonghyun took a moment to answer, but when he did, his voice was smooth. “I thought Seokmin was exaggerating, but damn, you really do act like a mother.”

Minhyun rolled his eyes, not meeting Jonghyun’s piercing gaze. “I’m just trying to keep everyone alive.”

Jonghyun opened his mouth to respond, but the elevator banged against the ground floor at that moment and he snapped it closed with a rueful grin. Minhyun leaned past him and pulled open the second door.

Outside, the air was saturated with the odor of slightly damp soil and concrete. Minhyun shouldered his bag and glanced back at Jonghyun, who was leaned against the bricks, eyebrows knit together. He called, “Jonghyun-ssi! I’ll be going!”

Jonghyun looked up and smiled. He waved at Minhyun’s retreating form. “Take care!”

Minhyun’s smile evaporated nearly the second he turned the next corner. He rubbed his temples. This day had been a mess. He hated to think of what Jonghyun thought of him now. And yet that was all that was on his mind. He groaned internally. One time thing. One time thing. This would never happen again.

For some reason, that didn’t assure him.

He mentally indexed the state of his pantry at home and found it sorely lacking. Minhyun dropped by the nearest grocery and picked up some ramen and bottled water because frankly, he couldn’t cook much beyond that.

He wrapped the plastic of the bag around his wrist and let go, watching it spin around. It had been an hour, and yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jonghyun. He was a good boss—that was true. But if there was anything today had shown him, it was that he was far more than what Minhyun had expected—far more than he had presented himself as.

Minhyun felt as though he was sitting at the edge of a cliff that he’d always thought was only a couple feet tall, only to suddenly realize that it was an abyss. It was frightening to someone who enjoyed routine and constants. Yet it was alluring at the same time.

He allowed himself that single thought. It was a shame that this was a one time thing.

Minhyun walked onto his apartment block. The sun was already down, sending final streaks of gold into the blues of the night. It was quiet, or as quiet as things got in this part of town. Minhyun inhaled and exhaled deeply, looking around. He examined the worn concrete of buildings and frayed clotheslines that hung into the streets as if he was foreign to it. Perhaps in another life, he would feel uncomfortable.

He blew a long breath out and pulled his keys out, running his fingers through them until he found his house key. The door opened with a scraping noise. Inside, the faint sound of television and running water was audible.

“Minhyun hyung!” Minhyun raised his eyebrows at the sideways man on the couch, who had taken Minhyun’s throw pillows in his arms and were using them as surrogate stuffed animals.

“Why are you here, Jaehwan-ah?” he asked, rubbing his temples, less of an accusatory question and more of a request for context.

Jaehwan smirked. “You always keep your spare house key in the same place.”

Minhyun pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gee, I wonder where else I’d keep it. My asshole?”

Jaehwan wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross, hyung.”

Minhyun made a small noise of disbelief, directing his attention onto the man walking out of the kitchen. “Remove him from the premises, Sewoon-ah, or God help me, I will—“

Sewoon smiled. Minhyun found himself less likely to remove Jaehwan from the premises. “He kept whining that he wanted you to make him food.”

Minhyun arched an eyebrow, plopping his bag of ramen and water on the kitchen counter. “Me? Make him food? Sewoon, I can barely boil water, you’re far more qualified.”

Jaehwan’s voice warbled in from the living room. “I’m craving your overcooked ramen, hyung!”

Minhyun blinked. “Wow.”

There was a resounding crash. Minhyun and Sewoon looked over with no small amount of trepidation. Jaehwan was in an intimate position with Minhyun’s flea market coffee table, one hand wrapped around his cracked phone the other holding tightly to the peeling plaster of the table.

“Jaehwan-ah.” Minhyun said. A pulsing pain began to press behind his temples, as if his brain was about to burst from his cranium and spray all over his cramped, but pristine apartment. “Did you just. Did you just break my coffee table?”

Jaehwan readjusted himself under the collapsing coffee table to look up Minhyun. “Break is a harsh word. I’d like to say that I lethally weakened its foundations.”

Minhyun made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “I’m burning your ramen.”

Jaehwan grinned cheekily. “So we get ramen?”

Minhyun ignored him and turned to Sewoon, who had been watching the exchange with mingled horror and shame. “I had a hunch you two would be over, so I recorded the Avengers. Try to keep him from further furniture items.”

Sewoon exhaled in relief. “I’m sure I can do that.”

Minhyun spent a few seconds reorganizing himself in the kitchen. There was nothing strange about Jaehwan—he was the closest thing to routine he had ever had. It was rather that within a day so starkly different from Minhyun’s norm, routine had become foreign.

He pulled a rusted iron pot from one of the cupboards and filled it with water. His mind was crowded—his muscles tensed. Cold water spilled out of the top of the pot, and he hissed as it washed over his fingers. A ring of bruises on the inside of his wrist stung and he wrinkled his nose at the sensation, pouring out some of the water and putting it on the stove before carefully drying his hands. After a few minutes of absentmindedly stirring the water, it began to crackle and Minhyun poured in the noodles.

In the living room, he could hear Jaehwan and Sewoon making small talk while the intro to the Avengers played. They were perfect for each other, and yet a couple no one would’ve expected. Minhyun had known Jaehwan for near eleven years. The latter had tripped and spilled his ice cream all over the sidewalk, and Minhyun had offered to buy him a new one, after which point, he became inseparable from his older savior.

Minhyun wasn’t exactly the poster child for healthy interpersonal relationships, and Jaehwan was perhaps the longest standing one he had ever cultivated. Yet they were not intimate in ways that their history would imply. Jaehwan had never sat beside him and told him that things were going to get better—they were both far too realistic for that. Instead, he simply waited for Minhyun. And Minhyun always returned.

Jaehwan had met Sewoon in the first year of high school, and had promptly fallen in love. Minhyun could see the appeal—Sewoon was nice, handsome, could play the guitar, and wasn’t immediately chagrined by everything that escaped Jaehwan’s mouth. Still, it took them two years and a large duck costume before they decided that maybe they should date. Minhyun had never understood their apprehension to confess—they had nothing to lose, and each other to gain.

“Sewoon-ah!” Jaehwan whined. The noise snapped Minhyun out of his reverie and he looked down to find that, once again, the noodles were overcooked. He bit back a groan and switched off the heat.

Pulling two cracked plastic bowls from a drawer, he called, “Dinner’s ready!”

Sewoon, ever the helpful dongsaeng, carried the bowls to the collapsed coffee table in the living room. “This smells great, hyung!”

Minhyun rolled his eyes, wiping his hands with a worn dish towel. “I appreciate the flattery, I do, but what has Jaehwan done this time?”

Jaehwan walked in at that moment, and Sewoon ducked behind him into the main room. Minhyun narrowed his eyes.

“What did you _do_?”

Jaehwan scoffed. “What do you mean? I’m a saint. A _saint_. I haven’t done anything and, if hypothetically, I did do something, it would be for the good of human society.”

Minhyun continued to stare at him, lips tight in a thin line. Jaehwan shifted on his feet.

“Jaehwan-ah.”

Jaehwan screwed up his face. “Fine, fine, I spilled beer on your carpet.”

Minhyun blew a breath through his teeth. “That’s the third time this week.”

“It wasn’t my fault! Look, Sewoon was being really cute and I was distracted by my internal gay monologue. And then he _looked_ at me and I panicked!”

“You date him.”

Jaehwan sighed blissfully. “Thanks for reminding me, hyung.”

Minhyun made a shooing motion with his hand. “Out, out, no more alcohol for you tonight.”

Jaehwan pouted, hand darting past him and grabbing a can of beer before gleefully running out of Minhyun’s reach. Minhyun regarded him with disdain. “Don’t ‘it hurts, hyung’ me tomorrow morning.”

Jaehwan only grinned before returning to the living room. Minhyun followed him, balancing his bowl of noodles and beer on one hand, using the other to press down on his growing headache.

The movie was somewhere about halfway— Loki was attempting to subjugate a population of some sort. Jaehwan was watching intently, though he’d seen the movie perhaps fifty times before. It was almost comforting, the familiarity of Jaehwan’s angry tears when Phil Coulson died. They eat in appreciative silence, apart from Jaehwan, who was criticizing plot holes. Funny enough, he had been a music major.

Sewoon and Jaehwan’s employment was one of the stranger aspects of their relationship. Long story short, they were wedding musicians. It didn’t hurt that they were both trained singers and Sewoon was skilled with the guitar. Jaehwan, however, had always attributed their steady income to their stunning visuals.

The credits rolled. Minhyun blinked. He had only finished a bit of his noodles and now he’d lost his appetite. He looked up at the lovebirds—Sewoon was intently watching the bonus scene, but Jaehwan looked down at him, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Minhyun felt a pang of shame, but put the bowl on the flat wooden surface of the once coffee table regardless.

As the movie trickled through its last moments, Minhyun heaved a sigh and got up, picking up the empty bowls and tilting his so the contents weren’t as visible. In the kitchen, he put a piece of saran wrap over it and placed it in his mini fridge. When he turned around, Jaehwan was watching him from the entryway.

Minhyun turned back to the dishes. Behind him, Jaehwan let out a small breath and rooted for more beer in the fridge.

“Do you have work tonight, hyung?” he asked carefully.

Minhyun made a small noise of displeasure. “No, but I have double shift for the next two weeks.”

“Really?” Jaehwan asked. “How did you get into that?”

Minhyun shrugged. “Maybe I just look hardworking. Hey, Jaehwan-ah.”

“What?” he asked, opening two cans and handing one to Minhyun. He dried his hands and accepted it, taking a small sip.

“You won’t believe what happened to me today,” Minhyun said, and Jaehwan grinned.

“What is this I’m hearing? Minhyun hyung having productive social interactions outside of Sewoon and I?”

“Jackass,” Minhyun muttered. “Get in the living room and I’ll tell you.”

Jaehwan must’ve said something to Sewoon, because when Minhyun settled into the worn armchair, they were both peering curiously at him.

“Spill,” Sewoon said, placing his chin on his hands. Jaehwan took his arms around him and snuggled in, creating a sandwich of human.

“Dongho’s back in town,” Minhyun started. Jaehwan made a hmph noise.

“Why did you two break up again?” he asked.

Minhyun looked away, embarrassed. “He said he didn’t like DBSK.”

Jaehwan wrinkled his nose. _“Hyung.”_

Minhyun waved his hand. “It’s in the past. Anyway, he wanted to meet up with me and my boyfriend for lunch.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend, though?” Sewoon pointed out. Minhyun made a face.

“I’m fully aware of that, Sewoon-ah. But I was really tired so I said yes. So…” Minhyun trailed off, ears burning. He pursed his lips in distaste.

“So?” Sewoon and Jaehwan asked simultaneously. Jaehwan whined, “You can’t just cut off there, that’s unfair. _Hyuuuung.”_

“So I asked my boss, Jonghyun, to go as my date, and he said yes, and I literally fucking lost it because he just said yes? Like it was fine. Oh my God.” Ashamed by the outburst, Minhyun rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, avoiding the searching gazes of his friends.

“You… went on a date… with your boss?” Sewoon asked slowly. “Isn’t that illegal?”

Minhyun waved a hand in dismissal. “I mean, I guess, maybe, but that’s not the point. Anyway, he’s a really good boyfriend. Objectively. He’s good at the whole cutesy thing you two have.”

“We’re not cutesy,” they said, and immediately locked doe eyes with each other.

“So what’s the problem?” Jaehwan asked, taking another swig.

Minhyun shrugged, ignoring the burning in his stomach. “No problem. It was just—really weird. And I have to _interact_ with him tomorrow.” Minhyun pressed a threadbare throw pillow against his face, his muffled voice barely audible. “This was such a bad idea.”

Sewoon and Jaehwan exchanged a look that Minhyun couldn’t quite discern through the pillow, only by the silence in the room. Sewoon asked, “Do you like him?”

Minhyun sat up straight, head tilted in confusion. “Jonghyun-ssi? He’s definitely attractive, but I don’t think I have a schoolgirl crush on him. If I did, I’d have approached him earlier somehow.”

“Love tha’ dig at ma two year crush on Sewoon, feels grea’ hyung,” Jaehwan replied drily, words slurred. Minhyun narrowed his eyes.

“How many beers have you had?”

Jaehwan put up two fingers, then three, then one, then four. He squinted at his fingers as if they were betraying him, and then opened and closed both his hands as if to signal zero and ten. Sewoon and Minhyun exchanged a weary look. Tired Jaehwan wasn’t as troublesome as sober Jaehwan, surprisingly, but Sewoon had a long trip home.

After ten minutes of Sewoon urging Jaehwan to drink a glass of water to no avail, the taxi Minhyun had called pulled up. Minhyun helped carry Sewoon and his heavy, whiny, boyfriend down the considerable amount of stairs. The taxi cab was a bit harder, and Jaehwan, at one point, put his hands on the outside rim to keep them from jamming him in.

“ _Hyuuung_ , don’t make me leave!” Jaehwan wailed.

“Please, hyung, just get in,” Sewoon begged. “It’s nearly midnight.”

With the help of the taxi driver, a fellow named Aron that Minhyun couldn’t quite place, they managed to shove Jaehwan in. Sewoon waved goodbye from inside, relief blurring his features.

When Minhyun returned to his apartment, the air was heavy with the smell of alcohol and ramen. It hung around him, hugging tight to his bones like a second skin of grease and loneliness.

It was strange—he’d lived so much of his life like this, and had never found anything wrong with it. But now—there was something lacking. A feeling dark and unknown and old tugged at his gut.

The landline rang.

Minhyun went to answer it, wiping a tear before he did so. He cleared his throat, and spoke into the receiver, “Hello?”

“Minhyun-ah!” Dongho shouted. An array of voices and noises played behind him. It contrasted with the stagnant silence in his own apartment in a way that left a stale taste in his mouth. “Can you hear me?”

“I can, yes,” he replied, making sure to speak louder. “What is it you called about?”

“Jeonghan and I had a lot of fun today,” Dongho yelled. “There’s a new attraction at the amusement park this weekend, and it’s our first break in a long time. We were wondering if you and Jonghyun wanted to come along.”

Minhyun’s brain was in disarray. Timelines and hypothetical situations and social etiquette mingled in in a attempt to find the right answer. He bit his lip. In all reality, asking Jonghyun today had been a bit much. He had to stop this now.

“Sure,” he replied. “That sounds great, Jonghyun and I’ll be there. Text me with the details later.”

“Great,” Dongho shouted, voice beginning to crack. “I’ll see you guys later. Sleep well!”

Minhyun hung up, but not before he heard a voice that he vaguely recognized shouting, “Jeonghan hyung, give me back my book!”

He spent a moment thinking this over—but in the end, his mind was far too busy with other matters to come to a conclusion on that.  
Minhyun brought a hand up to his face and pinched his cheek. It stung considerably, but he wasn’t convinced. He slapped himself once, then twice, then a third time with both hands.

“What did you just do, Hwang Minhyun?” he whispered to himself in a daze.

—

Minhyun dropped by Jonghyun’s office early that morning, two coffees in his hand. One was loaded with sugar syrup and milk, while the other, decidedly more minimalistic, only carried two sugars.

Inside, Jonghyun peered intently at his computer with red rimmed eyes. There was nothing but the click-clack of his fingers on the keys for a few minutes, as Minhyun stood awkwardly by the doorway with the air of someone apologetic.

Finally, Minhyun’s phone buzzed his pocket, blaring a TVXQ song as the ringtone. Jonghyun glanced up, surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes, but he waved his hand to show he should take the call.

“Hello?” Minhyun spoke quietly.

“It’s your favorite dongsaeng.”

“I’m at work, Jaehwan,” Minhyun shifted uncomfortably, aware of Jonghyun’s piercing gaze on him.

“Really?” Jaehwan made a hmph and audibly rolled over. “Is your boss with you?”

“That’s not a question I’d like to answer right now.”

“So he is! Ha!” Jaehwan gloated, but his voice sobered in the same second. “Hyung, be careful.”

Minhyun snorted. “You’re telling _me_ to be careful?”

“Yes,” he replied, no trace of artifice in his voice. “Please be careful.”

His voice left a lump in Minhyun’s throat. “I-I will.”

“Good,” he said cheerfully. “Sewoon’s making me breakfast, see you later!”

“Bye,” Minhyun managed weakly. He could feel Jonghyun watching him, and turned around slowly, giving himself time to recover.

Jonghyun smiled at him, face otherwise neutral. “What did you need, Minhyun-ssi?”

“I…” Minhyun’s mind went blank. He thrust forward the coffee as though it was an answer. Jonghyun raised his eyebrows.

“I thought I wasn't getting any more coffee," he said, examining the coffee and taking a tentative sip before looking back up. "What do you need this time? Another date?”

Minhyun nodded, and genuine surprise flickered over Jonghyun’s features for a fraction of a second. “Really? I thought this was a one time thing.”

Minhyun winced at the reminder. “Yeah… It was supposed to be, sorry. But I think Dongho’s going to keep calling us out now and after the show you put on, saying we broke up on a whim isn’t going to cut it.”

Jonghyun watched him carefully. “When is it?”

“Uh,” Minhyun checked his phone. “This Saturday from noon to whenever.”

Jonghyun hmphed, and it reminded Minhyun so much of Jaehwan that his heart stuttered in his chest. “Whenever, huh. Well, I’m free this weekend. And you did get me coffee,” he added, gesturing at the tall cup of overpriced coffee. He smiled at him, amusement clear in his eyes, and Minhyun could’ve almost cried from relief. “I’ll do it. If you’re comfortable with that, though—if last time was too much I can tone it down.”

“No, no,” Minhyun assured him. “We should keep it the same to avoid rising suspicion.” _Because that’s why,_ a tinny voice in the back of his head whispered. He ignored it, and flashed a winning smile. “Let’s keep it like last time.”

Jonghyun seemed taken aback by the smile, but nodded with a small smile. “Sounds good.”

When Minhyun left his office, he went straight to the second floor bathroom. It was covered by graffiti, courtesy of the interns. He looked down—his hands were shaking. He washed them once, twice, and held onto the cheap paper towel like a lifeline.

In little more than a day, he had effectively changed his life.

And he couldn't even bring himself to be upset about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii it is me please leave comments the ones from last chapter made me so happy... also kudos if you can :D my twitter is @hwanguit btw :)


	3. still the louvre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> double date at the amusement park + some extra stuff at the end!! tw for alcohol use and mention of drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow... another lorde song reference in the title.... love being predictable.... also shoutout to my pal jo who has this plus an extra s as her twitter @ rn... anyway this is a bit longer chapter and it officially indicates the beginning of Plot!! i'm gna b p busy this month but i'll try to keep getting updates in :D

The week passed quickly. Autumn was setting in around them, gathering like a honey haze in the corners of Jonghyun’s eyes when he stopped to look at it. Something in the air smelled like change—or maybe that was just the damp of rain.

Jonghyun woke up early on Saturday. His eyes snapped open to a room that was just slightly too dark. His heart beat quickly, tremors running through his body from a dream, a _nightmare,_ that hadn’t quite left him. His hands were clenched into fists so tight he could only feel the pain of the nails, nothing more. He waited one, two, three minutes, then sat up against the thin wood headboard. A clock on a cardboard box beside him blared a simple neon 5:05.

He hadn’t woken up before six in ten years.

He sighed deeply, masking the unease in his stomach with irritability. A quick trip to the fridge told him that he was to take an understated breakfast of an apple. He washed it, cut it, and cut his finger in the next second. Jonghyun waited for the pain—it didn’t come. Instead, the roiling dark ball in his gut expanded until he felt as though he was suffocating.

The rest of the morning passed in a similar manner. He slipped in the shower, put on his clothes backwards, and vacuumed his entire house without plugging in the vacuum. When he locked the door behind him at 11:30, he wasn’t in the most pleasant mood.

Yet, at the same time, he felt hopeful. Maybe this was it. The end of the worst morning ever. Once he reached the amusement park, he would be able to breathe again.

Minhyun would be there, at least.

He wasn’t sure what to think about the man—about them. This, of course, was a temporary arrangement. But Jonghyun couldn’t help but hope that maybe they’d stay friends. Frankly, he needed them.

Jonghyun arrived at the amusement park a little too early, twelve minutes before noon. The early morning bustle had already passed, and families and couples were making their ways through the gates. He tried his best to pass himself off as a bored boyfriend, leaning against the brick backing of the garden that introduced the amusement park. He pulled out his phone, scrolled aimlessly. No missing calls, no unread messages, no unseen emails. He scrolled further back and winced at every person he had left on read, which was a good chunk of his contacts. At this point, he only regularly communicated with his boss.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” A voice asked, peering at his phone. Jonghyun jumped, and tugged his phone to his chest before letting out a weary sigh.

“Minhyun, please,” Jonghyun implored, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Stop sneaking up on people.”

Minhyun grinned at him. “That’s my job. I’m a professional sneaker upper.”

“It’s too early in the morning for this.”

He huffed. “It’s nearly noon, and if that’s your threshold for ‘too much’ today’s going to push your limits, babe.”

Jonghyun’s stomach completed a gymnastics routine. He massaged his temples. “Did you at least get me coffee?”

A sly smile flickered on his face. He thrust it out to him, “One venti black with two sugars. Just the way you like it.”

Jonghyun accepted the coffee gratefully and took a long, contemplative swig before speaking. He examined his pseudo boyfriend carefully. Minhyun was dressed in his customary ripped jeans and sweater, with a long charcoal overcoat. Jonghyun looked at the coat and then at the sky, and once more at the coat, in a manner that the office employees had come to expect from him. “You’re going to fry.”

Minhyun wrinkled his nose. “I am _not_ going to fry. I have _layers.”_

Jonghyun scoffed. “And who’s going to carry your sweater and overcoat and subsequent layers?”

Minhyun smiled at him, and the sinking feeling reappeared in Jonghyun’s stomach. He offered a nervous laugh. “No… No. I’m not going to carry your stuff.”

Minhyun frowned at him. Jonghyun sighed. “If I was to… hypothetically do you this favor, why would I? I’m already out here on a Saturday, hanging out with you and your ex and your ex’s boyfriend. If anything, _you_ owe _me.”_

Minhyun contemplated this momentarily. Then he said, “If you do it, I’ll take care of the interns on Monday.”

Jonghyun couldn’t help the blissful smile that curled his mouth. He forced it down and continued. “Tuesday too.”

Minhyun folded his arms. “Tuesday until noon, and I stay late and clean up.”

Jonghyun smirked. “Deal.”

They stood in companionable silence for a second, and then Minhyun asked lightly, “What were you looking at?”

“Mm?” Jonghyun responded, startled.

Minhyun’s pleasant but flat expression was clearly practiced, and Jonghyun would have been guarded if not for the warmth in his eyes. “You were looking at someone when I came up. Is it anything I should know about?” Jonghyun’s breath caught in his throat, and he was about to call off the date, call it all off, and perhaps move to another province when Minhyun teased, “Are you cheating on me?”

Jonghyun masked his relief by glancing down at his phone, flicking through Safari and getting rid of superfluous tabs without ever meeting Minhyun’s eyes. “It’s just a fake relationship, Minhyun-ssi. No such thing as cheating.”

Minhyun shifted on his feet, pleasant smile flickering. “So that’s how we’re doing this.”

Jonghyun looked up, then, and caught his gaze. “Yeah. It is.”

Minhyun opened his mouth to say something, troubled, and Jonghyun wished he could smooth the lines of worry that were wrought in his face. Before either of them could come to a conclusion, Dongho cleared his throat.

Dongho wasn’t nearly as quiet as Minhyun—if he’d snuck up on them, it was due to nothing but their own obliviousness. The thought sent a shiver down Jonghyun’s spine.

Jeonghan and Dongho were dressed more responsibly than Minhyun, which Jonghyun felt the need to point out. Minhyun scowled at him in response, and it reminded him of a fox cub growling. Needless to say, it wasn’t very threatening.

After paying for their tickets, they loitered near the inner gate.

Jonghyun opened his mouth to discuss rides, but Minhyun looked queasy. He leaned over. “Why do you look like someone just gutted your cat?”

Minhyun’s eyes bulged, and he put a hand over his mouth. “Did you really have to word it that way?” Jonghyun arched an eyebrow and he sighed. “I’m afraid of the rocking boat—It’s a childhood thing.” He bit his lip. “But I don’t want to say I can’t go on any rides… I agreed to this, if I back out now, it’ll just be hard on Dongho.”

His gaze softened. “Okay.”

Minhyun’s nose wrinkled. “What do you mean, _okay?”_

Jonghyun ignored him, turning back to Dongho and Jeonghan, who were highlighting amusement park attractions. “Sorry for the late notice, but I probably can’t go on any rides today.”

Dongho cocked his head in confusion, and Jonghyun continued, “I had this insane stomach flu yesterday and I’m not sure if I’m fully recovered. Nothing that should interfere with the rest of the day, but rides that involve a lot of spinning and stuff tend to make me a bit nauseous. Thankfully, Minhyun said he’ll stay with me, so you two can go on those yourself. Sound good?”

“I definitely get it,” Dongho said amiably. “Take your time.”

Minhyun made a small noise of relief beside him, almost inaudible, and Jonghyun’s gut bottomed out. He leaned forward, looked at the attractions the other couple had marked up. Jeonghan said, “Let’s start on an easy one? Then get some food maybe.”

Minhyun spoke up for the first time, “Can we go on the Roarin’ Rapids ride?”

Jeonghan laughed. “Most people don’t like going on water rides first. You’re a daring man. I respect that.”

Dongho worried his lip. “If we are going on water rides, it’s best to do it earlier in the day… you’re right. What about you, Jonghyun?”

Jonghyun glanced at Minhyun’s faint smile and took a deep breath. “Yeah, sounds good.”

They started off towards the ride, which was on the other side of the park. Halfway there, Minhyun slipped his hand into Jonghyun’s, and his heart did a backflip. Jonghyun looked over, but Minhyun was admiring the headbands hanging in a park kiosk. He suddenly turned around and locked eyes with him, and Jonghyun startled.

“Could you buy me that?” Minhyun asked. Jonghyun examined the headband with furry fox ears and scowled.

“I’m not your sugar daddy.”

“Don’t be vulgar,” Minhyun scolded, then pouted. “And besides… Dongho’s buying Jeonghan one…”

Jonghyun glanced over—Minhyun was right; Jeonghan was animatedly shaking his head with an angel headband on. Dongho was holding back a smile and pulling out his wallet. Jonghyun sighed, and filled his voice with as much chagrin as he could. “What do I get this time?”

Minhyun folded his arms. “We’re friends. I mean. We’re acquaintances. Can’t you do something for me out of the goodness of your heart?”

Jonghyun flailed his hands. “And this isn’t? Me doing something out of the goodness of my heart?”

Minhyun raised his eyebrows. “And here I thought you were here for the coffee.”

Jonghyun stared at him for a second, speechless, before the other man bent over laughing. He watched him laugh, and then he was laughing himself. He took Minhyun’s shoulder to keep himself from falling from the intensity of it all. When they finally calmed down, they were far closer than they’d been before, and Jonghyun found his last laugh caught in his chest. Instead of speaking, Minhyun took the headband from behind him and handed it to Jonghyun. He took it from him, and inspected it again, as if considering whether to buy it, when they both knew he was done for.

He looked up. Minhyun grinned at him hopefully, and Jonghyun sighed. “You owe me.”

“When don’t I owe you?” he pointed out, humor evident in his voice.

Jonghyun snorted and joined Dongho in the line behind the cash register. He looked down at the item in Jonghyun’s hand and burst out laughing. “You two are so cute, oh my God.”

“We’re not,” Jonghyun replied, equal parts modesty and honesty.

Dongho wrinkled his nose in disagreement. “Whatever you say, Jonghyun-ssi. Speaking of cute, aren’t you going to get one for yourself? You need to match.”

“You should get one, honey!” Minhyun agreed, materializing beside Jonghyun’s ear. He swore in a low voice.

Jonghyun grimaced. “I don’t look good in the cute headband things.”

“Everyone looks good in the ‘cute headband things’, Jonghyun-ssi,” Jeonghan said, appearing behind Minhyun. “You just haven’t found the right one yet. But worry not! I’ll find you the perfect one.”

“Jeonghan-ah, let Minhyun pick it,” Dongho chided, but it had a mischievous undertone to it. Jonghyun held out a hand to stop them, but Dongho had already paid for their headbands and left the store.

“Is there a purchase I can help you with?” The cashier asked.

“Just one minute,” Minhyun said, taking Jonghyun’s hand and pulling him back to the headband section.

Jonghyun groaned. “Why are we doing this again?”

Minhyun scowled at him. “Look, buddy. If Dongho and Jeonghan go around with those fucking headbands, and _I’m_ the only one wearing a headband, you’ll look like a loser. You already are, but even more of a loser.” He ignored Jonghyun’s offended gasp and continued, “Not just that, I’ll be the poor sap who got stuck with a asshole cheapskate loser for a boyfriend! It’ll be pathetic. This,” he said gesturing between themselves. “This isn’t pathetic. I’d rather die than be a more pathetic couple than Dongho and Jeonghan.”

“They’re a good couple,” Jonghyun pointed out.

Minhyun’s eyes glinted. “Exactly. That’s why we have to be _better._ And we can’t exactly accomplish that if you don’t have your headband. Got it?”

Jonghyun didn’t quite get it, but he nodded regardless. Minhyun grinned, and it was glorious. He handed him a headband with long striped green appendages. Jonghyun snorted. “Wartortle? How do I look anything like _Wartortle?”_

Minhyun laughed. “You don’t see it?”

Jonghyun put it on and examined himself in the mirror, trying to mentally overlay his face with a picture of the Pokémon. He squinted his eyes, ignoring the sounds of Minhyun’s laughter beside him. Finally, Minhyun took his hand. He whined, “Come on, pay or we’ll be late and then we’ll get hungry on the water ride and it’ll be no fun.”

“You’re such a fucking child,” Jonghyun grumbled amiably, allowing Minhyun to drag him to the cashier.

After they paid, Minhyun demanded they put on the headbands immediately. Jonghyun shifted uncomfortably. “They look childish.”

Minhyun huffed. “They’re a _relationship staple._ A staple!”

“I don’t know what that means,” Jonghyun said.

Minhyun stared at him for a few seconds, and then massaged his temples. “How did you pass your college entrance exams?”

“With a lot of educated guessing,” Jonghyun replied. “Anyway, whatever, if it’s to beat Dongho and Jeonghan, I’ll wear it.”

Minhyun beamed at him. “You’re the best boyfriend!”

Jonghyun narrowed his eyes, ignoring the clench in his stomach. “I’m a mediocre fake boyfriend at best, but thanks.”

Minhyun didn’t say anything to that, just smiled, and linked his arm in Jonghyun’s. “Let’s go find the others.”

\--

It took them a while before they found the other couple waiting at Roarin’ Rapids. Neither of them were very good with directions, but if Jonghyun was being honest, he hadn’t loathed the walk—it was rather nice out. Even if he had to carry Minhyun’s coat in one hand and his hand in the other.

Dongho crossed his arms when they arrived, an expression that was trying to resemble anger and failing miserably crossing his face. “You two are _late.”_

“So we are,” Minhyun said.

Dongho put his hands up. “ _Why_ were you so late?”

Jonghyun opened his mouth to fabricate some lie about his bowel movements, but Jeonghan got there before him. “Honey, do you _really_ want to know why they showed up so late?”

Dongho took the hint and dismissed the matter, but not before Minhyun’s ears turned bright red.

Jonghyun felt the need to defend Minhyun’s innocence. “It’s not like that—“

Jeonghan waved his hand. “Don’t try me, Turtle Man. We’re already late, let’s just go.”

The line was fairly short for one in the afternoon, especially on a Saturday, and Jeonghan wouldn’t let them forget it, constantly remarking on how relieved he was.

“Make sure to buckle in, and enjoy your ride!” The bored twenty something behind the bars told them.

Jonghyun looked around, observing the lush faux jungle they’d set up. There were eight rafts on a rotating platform that segued on one side into foaming white water. The interior of the raft was filled with water and Jonghyun felt his clothes dampening.

A sharp clicking sound brought his attention back to the present. Minhyun was leaned over him, buckling his seatbelt with an almost maternal expression of annoyance. “You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“Unlikely,” Jonghyun pointed out, leaning back.

He scowled. “There’s seatbelts for a reason, dumbass.”

Jonghyun opened his mouth to reply, but the platform jolted them into movement. Minhyun yelped and Jonghyun impulsively wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Across from them, Dongho was clinging to Jeonghan, who was watching the entire affair with little more than boredom.

“It’s starting, it’s starting,” Minhyun whispered to Jonghyun, head tucked in and hands balled in excitement, and he bit back a smile.

Another, harsher jolt, moved them onto the river. Dongho made a small noise of discomfort and Jeonghan patted his back. Minhyun, after seeing that they’d started the real ride, unfolded himself and grinned at Jonghyun.

The ride itself was fun, though it catapulted him into Minhyun’s side far too many times for his own comfort. When it finally lurched to an end, Minhyun pouted at him in disappointment. He grumbled, “That was way too short.”

“Yeah,” Jonghyun replied absentmindedly, watching how his black hair had flattened to his forehead from the water dripping down his face.

“You guys coming?” Dongho asked, standing at the exit. Minhyun laughed and pulled him out of his reverie, taking his hand in his own and climbing out of the raft.

When they met up outside the gate, Jeonghan groaned. “I’m fucking starving.”

Dongho laughed. “There’s a tteokbeokki stand near here… or do you guys want pizza?”

Minhyun leaned over, and his hair dripped on Jonghyun’s shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine. “I want pizza.”

“Pizza,” Jonghyun said suddenly, visibly shocking the other three with his firmness. “Let’s get pizza. I haven’t had pizza in three years. I require pizza right now.”

Minhyun stifled a laugh by burying his head in Jonghyun’s shoulder, his own shoulders silently shaking in amusement. Something warm bloomed in his chest, most likely just the warm sun drying his clothes, though he doubted it. Jeonghan and Dongho raised their eyebrows at each other. “Pizza it is.”

Jonghyun stopped by the locker he’d put Minhyun’s stuff in before starting the ride and carefully pulled the coat and sweater out. The other three were standing in front of the automated drier they kept next to water rides. Minhyun was last to come out. His hair had fluffed up, strands spread across his forehead. It was unbearably cute, much like a teddy bear. Unable to properly verbalize this in a way that fit their delicate relationship with each other, he wordlessly pulled the sweater over Minhyun’s head. The man made a muffled noise, but stuck his arms in. “I can put it on myself.”

“I know you can,” Jonghyun said, but still placed the coat on his shoulders, careful in his work. Jonghyun went in then, and tried to drown the whale noises in his head with the soft droning of the drier.

When he came out, Minhyun held out his phone and smiled. “Dongho and Jeonghan went ahead. Again.”

“I’m starting to think we’re bothering them,” Jonghyun said, mischievous smile propped on his lips.

Minhyun laced his fingers in Jonghyun’s and squeezed. “Well, that’s the plan. Hopefully we scare them off enough that next time, Dongho doesn’t think to invite us out.”

Jonghyun’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. That’s the plan.”

In a fashion that seemed to be quickly becoming their standard, they were late to the pizza stand. Dongho and Jeonghan were cleaning up with napkins when they showed up, rueful expressions on their faces. Dongho just waved his hand.

“I don’t even want to know this time,” he said wearily, before perking up. “But this is the perfect opportunity for Jeonghan and I to go on big rides. You guys want to meet up again at the fireworks? They’re at the plaza.”

Minhyun, a bashful hand pressed against his mouth, managed to nod. The other couple waved goodbye. “Have fun eating! Remember to keep PDA to a minimum!”

Jonghyun laughed as they disappeared. “If only they knew.”

Minhyun smirked. “Yeah, we’ve got this down to a tee. The perfect fake couple.”

Jonghyun spread his hands in front of him. “We could professionally fake date.”

“Olympic gold medalist fake daters?” Minhyun giggled. “That’s a bit much.”

Jonghyun raised an eyebrow. “Not with our prowess. We could make a career out of this!”

“Twenty thousand won for the first hour, five thousand more every extra.”

“Every kiss is two thousand won, surprise kisses are six.”

“Six?” Minhyun asked. “That’s a lot.”

Jonghyun shrugged. “Imagine—you’re out on nothing less than a job and your client just grabs you and sucks your face.”

“Quit it with the vulgar phrasing,” Minhyun whined, laughing nonetheless.

They ate like that for a few minutes, high off their own accomplishment. Minhyun finally spoke up, wiping his mouth and not meeting Jonghyun’s gaze. “You want to come over to my place after?”

Jonghyun cocked his head. “Why?”

Minhyun wrinkled his nose. “Honestly, I don’t think this is the last time we’re going to go out with Dongho. And… he’s still my friend. Do you think you can deal with keeping this up long term?”

Jonghyun tapped his foot under the table, suddenly overwhelmed and unwilling to show it. “Long… term?”

It was a word he disliked.

“Yeah,” Minhyun bit his lip, offering a nervous smile, and Jonghyun wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make a rational decision in the face of that. _No wonder Junhwi quit,_ Jonghyun thought in a daze.

“I mean…” he trailed off. “You owe me. Big time.”

Minhyun nodded vigorously. “I do. Big time. Is there anything you have in mind?”

Jonghyun furrowed his brow in concentration, but couldn’t come up with anything. “Not right now… I’ll get back to you on that. So am I coming over to discuss the relationship or…?”

Minhyun smiled and it was a threadbare creature. “Yeah! I felt like we should come up with some ground rules. You know?”

“I know,” Jonghyun said, head packed to the brim with confused whale noises, and this was so, so, different from what they’d been just days ago. Jonghyun didn’t have many friends—he didn’t have many people to begin with. Gaining a whole friend, a whole fake _boyfriend,_ in a week was a bit… frightening,

Minhyun took his hand, and Jonghyun’s heart reminded him that it was a star gymnast. He gulped, but Minhyun didn’t look up. “I hope this isn’t too burdensome for you… if it is, I’ll figure something else out. You’re my boss, after all.”

“No,” Jonghyun said too quickly, and he cursed himself at how desperate he must sound. “It’s not… a burden. Even if _this_ isn’t real… I’d like to be your friend.”

Minhyun brightened up visibly, and Jonghyun tasted blood from where he bit his cheek. “Great! I mean, sounds good. You don’t mind walking to my place, right? I don’t have a car.”

“I noticed,” Jonghyun said drily, trying his utmost not to sound like a stalker. “It’s fine, we can walk.”

Minhyun’s smile widened as he started cleaning up the table. Jonghyun almost choked on his pizza. “I’m still eating!”

He waved his hand, and Jonghyun was again reminded of his mother. “It’s a bit messy, I’m just getting rid of trash. There’s no reason not to clean up while you’re still eating!”

Regardless, they finished up eating soon enough. Minhyun cocked his head in thought, leaning forward on outstretched forearms to examine the amusement park map. “Let’s go on the carousel next. I need selfies.”

Jonghyun huffed an incredulous laugh, and Minhyun grinned at him. “Your laugh is so funny.”

He scowled. “It’s not funny. It’s… charming.”

The corners of Minhyun’s eyes turned up. “Whatever you say, Turtle Man.”

 _“Don’t call me that,”_ Jonghyun said, trying to sound angry and failing.

Minhyun heaved a satisfied sigh and got up, walking a few yards before looking back. “Are you coming?”

Jonghyun’s brain set off warning alarms. Something was changing—an unknown was stepping into his carefully isolated world and its name was Hwang Minhyun. _This is a bad idea,_ his mind screamed.

But Jonghyun had never been good at making the right decision.

They took their time walking to the carousel, buying finger foods and watching the scenery, which basically consisted of screaming people forcibly attached to metal. By the time they finally got there, it was early evening, and the sky was streaked with dark blue.

The line for the carousel was long, and Minhyun only barely had room to get on. But he refused.

“We should go together,” he said firmly, and Jonghyun felt a pang at the solidarity of it all.

The employee raised his eyebrows. “There’s only one seat.”

And that’s how they ended up trying to fit themselves on the narrow back of a black and white speckled ceramic pony.

“This was a terrible idea,” Jonghyun grumbled.

“Perfect fake couple,” Minhyun reminded him, leaning back against Jonghyun’s chest. His cheeks burned, and he tried to look anywhere other than down as the horse lurched into motion.

Once they settled into an easy rhythm, Minhyun attempted to pull his phone out, nearly dropping it. Jonghyun fit his hand around Minhyun’s and pulled the phone out carefully. “I’ll get it.”

A beat of silence, and then, “Thanks.”

Jonghyun handed him the phone, and put his chin on Minhyun’s shoulder as he scrolled through his apps looking for Snow. It was a minimalistic phone—a simple gray iPhone with a lockscreen of an ocean and a background of three silhouettes against a sunset on the beach. Jonghyun tilted his head, brushing Minhyun’s neck. “What’s that?”

“My mother, sister and I,” he said absentmindedly, “I grew up in Busan.”

“Can you speak satoori?” Jonghyun asked, and Minhyun only laughed.

“It’s been a long time… maybe I’ll show you another time.”

Minhyun clicked the kitten filter button and held the phone up high, elbowing Jonghyun behind him. “Smile, Jonghyun-ah!”

He smiled.

Jonghyun felt that the ride came to an end far too quickly. On their way out, some elderly people shot them disapproving looks. Perhaps it was a bit much to sit pressed against each other and a carousel pole in front of children, but straights did it all the time and no one seemed to mind, so he saw this as their daily win for the LGBT community.

Minhyun nudged him. “The fireworks are starting soon. We should head over.”

Jonghyun nodded, lost in his own thoughts, and felt nothing but the double beat of his heart when Minhyun took his hand in his own. This time, though, he put it in his coat pocket. He looked over, offering a questioning expression.

“It’s cold,” Minhyun said simply, and started walking.

 _This is a terrible idea,_ his mind repeated, desperately trying to dissuade him. This was definitely one of the worst decisions Jonghyun had made, and if there was anything he was an Olympic gold medalist in, it was his ability to make bad decisions.

Halfway there, a boom sounded above them. The first firework.

Minhyun looked up, awe sparkling in his eyes, and Jonghyun forgot why they were there in the first place. He glanced down, found his gaze and grinned in a way that dripped with naiveté. It was a good look on him, Jonghyun thought dazedly. “They’re so beautiful.”

The air around them sung with change, it felt new, unknown, powerful. Jonghyun felt off balance in the midst of all of this. If he believed in God, this would be the punishment for his sins. An angel had been sent to make him repent, to destroy him utterly, and his name was Hwang Minhyun.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun said. “They are.”

They never made it to Dongho and Jeonghan.

\--

By the time the show had finished and they had reunited with the others, it was a little over nine. They walked each other to the gates and said their goodbyes.

“This was really fun!” Dongho enthused. “Let’s do it again another time!”

“You two aren’t really that disgusting,” Jeonghan added. “And you’re funny too. I had fun.”

Jonghyun put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Minhyun had been right. The man in question smiled. “We’d be delighted to go out again.”

They started walking home, when Minhyun suddenly turned to him, hand jerking out of Jonghyun’s. He hadn’t even noticed that they’d still held hands. “Do you want to get a cab?”

“Why?” Jonghyun said. “We’re both physically capable, it’s not _that_ late out…”

Minhyun shifted uncomfortably. “My neighborhood’s a bit sketchy… It’s fine usually, I just don’t want to take any chances, especially at night.”

Jonghyun mulled it over before pulling his phone out. “Fine, but I’m paying.”

Minhyun raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d ask me to pay.”

“Exactly. I can’t be too predictable—I have to keep you on your toes.”

Minhyun laughed, tension relaxing from his stance. They were both exhausted, so waiting for the taxi was less of an awkward silence, and more of a mutual lack of conversation. After a few minutes though, Jonghyun felt it was a safe bet to say something. “When did you move here?”

Minhyun laughed. “I’ve been here since the branch opened. My friend Jisung works at the Busan branch and he said that they’d take anyone for the Seoul branch, so I figured it was a good shot.”

 _Jisung?_ “Yeah, I’ve only been here for about two years. I’m surprised I managed to gain the employees’ respect so quickly.”

“You’re very… leader-like,” Minhyun said. “Trustworthy. Mature. It’s easier to trust you with affairs than to think them out ourselves most of the time.”

 _Trustworthy. Mature._ Jonghyun’s mind had graduated beyond whale noises. It was now emitting high frequency wailing sounds. “I’m really… not.”

Minhyun shrugged. “I think you are. At least you look like you are, and that’s enough for most of us. We don’t have very high standards—the first manager was a mess.”

“Really?” Jonghyun asked.

Minhyun snorted. “Yeah. He showed up maybe… once a week? Often wasted. It was a mess. Most of the time, Nayoung and I had to do all his work for him. You, at least, don’t need a babysitter.”

“Thanks,” Jonghyun replied. “I like to think of myself as a functioning adult.”

“That’s better than most of us,” Minhyun said, and there was something so brittle about his voice. Before Jonghyun could comment on it, the taxi pulled up.

“I’ll be your driver for today.” A familiar voice drifted in from the front.

“Aron?” Minhyun asked.

“…Is it you two again? Where’s your friend?” The driver laughed.

“Jaehwan’s not with me,” Minhyun said. “It’s just Jonghyun and I.”

“Well, nice to meet you,” Aron replied, and he could hear the smile in his voice. “This is starting to become a routine. Where to this time?”

Minhyun rattled off the address, and the car sped down the street. Jonghyun clutched Minhyun’s arm, face draining of blood. He just glanced over and laughed, eyes shining in the dim interior of the car.

Jonghyun watched the night sky go by, as clouded as it was, and willed his heart to quit gymnastics.

As they neared Minhyun’s apartment complex, Jonghyun felt him begin to stiffen beside him. He was right—it wasn’t the best part of town by any stretch of the matter. Jonghyun wasn’t in any position to judge him, though.

“Here you go,” Aron said after a few minutes more. “Have a nice night, you two.”

Minhyun blushed again and paid him before offering a hand to Jonghyun. Out of some sense of shame, he refused to make eye contact as they walked up the steps, so Jonghyun observed the world around him. It was a four floor condo complex, with a patio in the middle which the other apartments wrapped around. Windows were boarded up in multiple places, and discarded furniture and garbage lay on the ground. A small, decrepit tree stood in the center of it all, a flash of nature in this urban dystopia.

The smell of old cigarette smoke, beer, and myriad drugs hung heavy in the air, and Minhyun offered a mask to him, voice quiet as he said, “I live on the top floor, it’s a bit of a walk. I’d get it if you felt uncomfortable with the… atmosphere.”

Jonghyun shook his head. “It’s fine, I’ve seen worse.”

Minhyun folded it and put it back in his coat pocket, obviously already adjusted, and he felt a pang, an impulsive need to tell him that this didn’t make him uncomfortable. But this early on, he knew Minhyun wouldn’t believe him.

They ducked under laundry lines criss crossing the path. Jonghyun looked up—the moon cast a creamy light over the dying apartment complex, turning the brown tiles a milky coffee color. Minhyun coughed surreptitiously, and Jonghyun glanced at him. “We’re here.”

A simple black doormat stood in front of the battered wooden door and Minhyun wiped his shoes on it before unlocking the door and entering. Jonghyun followed him in after attempting to scrape some leaves off his own shoes. Minhyun hung up his coat before taking Jonghyun’s flannel. He pulled off his sweater, exposing part of his back in the process, and left it on the lumpy couch. He offered Jonghyun a volatile smile before disappearing into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

Jonghyun took in the apartment. It was rather cramped, yet neat at the same time. A slab of wood that he assumed had once been a coffee table was sandwiched between a small television set and a sofa and loveseat pair that looked obnoxiously old. Mismatched throw pillows were fit into the crooks. An outlet in the corner held chargers for two electronic devices—presumably, his laptop and phone. On the right side of the room, a set of doors led to what Jonghyun assumed was a balcony, though the blinds were too tightly closed for him to tell. The far left corner of the room had an arching doorway that forked to what looked like the kitchen and a bedroom.

Jonghyun tentatively took a seat on the couch, held in a single moment of uncertainty before Minhyun’s voice drifted in from the kitchen. “Do you drink, Jonghyun-ssi?”

Jonghyun was caught off by the simple remark, memories and demands and warnings expanding to flatten his rational thought painfully. “I… yeah?”

Minhyun reappeared a few seconds later, two cans of cheap beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He smiled, saying, “I don’t really have that much food at home right now, so we shouldn’t drink more than one can.”

“Aren’t you a lightweight?” Jonghyun teased, accepting the cold can.

Minhyun made a face. “Yeah, but I’d feel bad if I just let you get drunk on your own.”

Jonghyun opened his mouth to say that there’s no way he’d get drunk off of one can of beer, but thought better of it. “That’s responsible of you. Do you have some paper for the list?”

Minhyun brightened, pulling a notepad and pen from a small messenger bag he had leaned against the side of the couch. He titled it ‘Hwang Minhyun and Kim Jonghyun’s Fake Relationship Rules’.

“Isn’t that a bit childish?” Jonghyun asked

Minhyun tsked. “What about this relationship isn’t childish?”

Jonghyun laughed. “That’s fair. How about we each add one thing?”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, adding things to the list until it fell to the end of the paper. Minhyun laughed at its length. “Enough?”

“Enough,” Jonghyun agreed, leaning forward to read out the first rule. “No monetary compensation for any aspect of the relationship. Didn’t I buy you stuff today?”

“But that was because I asked you. This would be like if you asked me to buy  you a Ferrari because I owe you,” Minhyun pointed out. “I’m just not financially stable enough to be your sugar daddy.”

“I thought you said that was vulgar.”

“It is. That’s why I refuse to be it.”

They went through the entire list like that, casually teasing each other about certain items. Jonghyun had tried to work in a rule about babysitting the interns, hoping Minhyun wouldn’t see it, which backfired.

“They’re not _that_ bad, Jonghyun,” Minhyun managed, covering his mouth with the side of the sofa.

“They’re demons,” Jonghyun said firmly. “I love them, but they’re definitely demons.”

They finally managed to come up with a fairly simple, short list that got across main tenets of the relationship.

_Hwang Minhyun and Kim Jonghyun’s Fake Relationship Rules_

  1.      _Relationship isn’t exclusive, but for the sake of continuity, neither member will engage in another public relationship._
  2.      _Dates with other parties are mandatory unless one is busy._
  3.      _Don’t bring the relationship into the office._
  4.      _PDA is okay, but to be kept to a minimum unless there’s competition._
  5.      _Don’t fall in love._



Minhyun tore it off the notepad and copied it down, handing the copy to him. “Keep it out of sight, but somewhere you can access it.”

Jonghyun laughed. “You’re so professional about this. It’s not a business transaction.”

Minhyun worried his lip, a smile flickering in his eyes. “I know… I just feel bad about pushing this on you. I mean, we weren’t even close before this.”

“I really don’t mind,” Jonghyun assured him before taking a sip of beer. “But I do think we should know each other better.”

Minhyun cocked his head. “I agree, but how do you suggest going about that? I don’t have a lot of my old photo albums lying around.”

“How about two truths and a lie?” Jonghyun suggested, waggling his can. “If you lose, you drink.”

Minhyun laughed. “You’re setting me up. I’m going to get fucking wasted and then I’ll keep losing.”

“I’m not that mean,” Jonghyun protested, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I’ll even go first.”

The other man smiled and furrowed his brow and concentration. “Hmm. I hate the ocean, I was in my school choir, and I love coffee.”

Jonghyun fiddled with his beer can. “Is the lie that you hate the ocean? It is your lockscreen, after all.”

Minhyun grinned. “No, that was a truth. Salt irritates my skin.”

Jonghyun groaned and made a face before taking a swig of beer. He swallowed it slowly before saying, “Your turn. My least favorite subject in school was science, I like to watch anime, and I went to law school.”

He wrinkled his nose. “There’s no way you went to law school.”

Jonghyun made a cackling noise. “Drink.”

Minhyun’s jaw dropped. “Really? Kim Jonghyun, the law student?”

“Mm,” he said, not meeting Minhyun’s eyes. “I had to drop out though. Guess I wasn’t cut out for it.”

Eventually it just degraded into Guess If It’s a Lie. Minhyun, at that point thoroughly smashed, managed a warbling, “The last person I texted w-was my sister.”

Jonghyun narrowed his eyes, barely tipsy. “Nope.”

Minhyun made a whining noise. “How come you’re not drunk yet? I’ve never seen you drunk! You drink so much at company dinners and yet it doesn’t affect you.”

Jonghyun laughed. “Good genetics?”

Minhyun wrinkled his nose. “C-could you get drunk? For once! I just want to see if it’s possible to get the Great Kim Jonghyun wasted.”

Jonghyun checked the time. 12:05. He sighed—he could afford a hangover tomorrow, he never woke up early on Sundays anyway. He downed the rest of his beer. Minhyun watched him in near awe. He put it down on the table and used the arm of the chair for support as he walked to the kitchen. He noted only a small stagger in his footsteps—it would take a lot more before Minhyun got his wish.

“Do you have any hard alcohol?” he called back.

“I’m a lightweight!” Minhyun shouted back, and Jonghyun figured four more cans of beer and a small container of unknown alcohol would suffice. Minhyun gasped at the latter as Jonghyun reentered the living room.

“That’s not… you shouldn’t drink that, Jonghyun,” he said somberly, flip flopping on the couch to look up at him. “It’s my friend’s.”

Jonghyun snorted. “Is it strong?”

“Very.”

“Well then, I’ll have to take that risk. Nothing much in your fridge is going to get me drunk otherwise.”

Jonghyun placed the cans on the slab of wood under them, ignoring the shaking in his hands. God, he really hated himself sometimes. It was pathetic how fucked up he was. Minhyun watched him from the other side of the couch, eyes glazed from the alcohol yet gaze piercing nonetheless. There was something about that gaze that unnerved him—it was glassily neutral and yet Jonghyun felt as though he was being put on trial.

After the second or third can, he could feel it. He leaned his head back against the couch, struggling to focus the world around him. Minhyun asked quietly, “Are you done?”

Jonghyun laughed and he hated it. He hated being drunk—hated the way he wasn’t able to carefully filter himself. The sound was unexpectedly dark and Minhyun flinched out of the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath. “Not quite.”

Jonghyun struggled to steady his hand as he opened the carton of clear liquid. Some of it sloshed over the opening, stinging an old cut on his wrist. In one fluid movement, he brought it up to his lips and gulped it down. His throat burned at the sensation—he felt as though he was being lit up from within.

For a second, he forgot where he was, and the familiarity of the scene stole the oxygen from his lungs. As the remaining liquid trickled into his mouth, he found himself wheezing.

Minhyun struggled to come up to sitting position. “Are ya’ okay?”

Jonghyun pressed two fingers against his throat, trying to keep the mingling fear and pleasure in the back of his mind from overwhelming him. “I’m f-fine.”

He winced at the slurring of his voice but Minhyun only smiled and cocked his head. “So here he is… the Great Kim Jonghyun. Drunk.”

“Not up to your expectations?” He asked, slurring the last s into something resembling a z.

“I’m… not sure what I expected,” Minhyun replied. He opened his mouth to ask something, but Jonghyun’s mind couldn’t quite keep up with the movement of his lips. Something sank in his gut. _Not again._

Needless to say, Jonghyun didn’t remember much of the night after that.

\--

Sunlight streamed through the blinds. Jonghyun groaned, first at the light, then at the ache thrumming through his body. It was far too reminiscent of a place he’d thought he’d left.

He struggled to move himself into a sitting position before looking around. There was no spilled cans or ripped paper like he’d thought, only a single note. So Minhyun had woken up before him and cleaned it all up. The note read:

_I missed work last night, so I’ll have to do a double shift this morning. I made some hangover soup for you, though I can’t attest to the taste. The backup key is in the hole above the door, so lock before you leave. ~Minhyun_

Jonghyun felt a pang at how thoughtful he was. _He’s your friend,_ his mind reminded him, and his chest expanded uncomfortably. His friend. He wasn’t very good at those. He patted his hair down and stretched his arms before carefully padding into the kitchen. There was something stagnant about the air, and Jonghyun felt like an intruder as he pulled out a bowl and ladled some of the soup in.

As he sat down on the carpet floor, placing his bowl on the remnant of the coffee table, he heard a crackling noise in his back pocket. It was the list from last night, with a single addition.

The paper fluttered from his hands, and they shook slightly as he went to pick up the bowl of soup. It tasted salty, like tears, and his raw throat constricted. His mind had given up on dissuading him from this mess of a relationship at this point, but he could feel dread settle in his bones like tar.

  1. _No lies._



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave comments/kudos and hmu on twt @hwanguit :DD


	4. like the dead leaves that fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> filler, but not really filler. also the official beginning of arc 1! the angst starts this chapter, light as it is. have fun :D tw for blood and alcohol use - chapter title from bts's autumn leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so a couple things, one, arc 1 is its own story so im contemplating turning arc 2 into another fic and having this be a series? watch out for that. also, the fic takes place in seoul. jonghyun and minhyun are aged up to be twenty-six international age, so it's slightly in the future in au-verse.

        Autumn passed by quick, and yet slow at the same time, filled with moments of clarity that reminded Minhyun of a fly in amber.

        Jonghyun became a regular fixture in his life, one he, surprisingly, didn’t regret. Their interactions in the office only changed slightly, and they barely talked, except for Minhyun’s running joke of getting him coffee. But they met up a lot, often going to Minhyun’s to hang out. Jonghyun had never invited him home, which was peculiar, but after his own experiences, Minhyun knew better than to pry.

        One day, late in September, Jaehwan sat him down after a quick meal of delivery pizza. Sewoon took a seat beside him and they gazed at Minhyun with a look of almost parental disapproval.

        “When are you bringing him home?” Sewoon asked.

        “Him?” Minhyun replied. “Who’s _him?”_

        Jaehwan scoffed. “Your corporate boy toy, that’s who.” He cracked his knuckles in a manner meant to be threatening but looked amusing coming from him.

        Minhyun raised his eyebrows. “What do you want with Jonghyun?”

        “I just want to get to know him,” Sewoon said.

        “I need to judge his worthiness,” Jaehwan said simultaneously. They glanced at each other, half horrified, and Minhyun felt as though he was stuck in a cell with an unsynchronized pair of cops.

        “He’s worthy, Jaehwan-ah,” Minhyun said drily. “Besides, it’s not like we’re really dating.”

        The younger boys exchanged another loaded glance. Sewoon sighed. “He’s over here all the time anyway. Just let us meet him? Once.”

        Minhyun rubbed his temples before letting out a grunt of agreement. “On one condition. Jaehwan…”

        “Why is it always me?” Jaehwan grumbled under his breath.

        “Play nice,” Minhyun finished, smiling thinly.

        “I always play nice,” he replied. “I invented playing nice. I should win an award for—“

        “Sewoon, take him home,” Minhyun said, and the other boy nodded and took Jaehwan’s hand in his and got up.

        When Minhyun brought up the possibility to Jonghyun after work the next day, he agreed. He offered one of his bright, startlingly innocent smiles, and said, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

        Minhyun wasn’t sure, but he knew that its name was Kim Jaehwan.

       

\--

        Jonghyun had tried to clean up nicely before going to Minhyun’s house. He knew little about Jaehwan beyond the fact that he was Minhyun’s best friend, and kind of a mess. He fiddled with his white sweater on the way there, picking at unraveling threads against his better judgment.

        Minhyun’s neighborhood was overflowing, yet dead. The air was heavy with past actions and memories. Now, there was only a skeleton that wore its favorite coat for warmth.

        Jonghyun tugged his sweater tighter around him and climbed the stairs to Minhyun’s apartment. He loitered in front of his door for awhile, not sure when to knock. His mind provided him with imaginary scenarios in which he knocked, only to find Minhyun's friends having a fight, or being drunk, or having sex. It was rattling, to say the least.

        After a couple minutes of this internal struggle, he choked on his own saliva and started coughing. Footsteps started sounding from inside, and Jonghyun panicked, knocking on the door just as Minhyun swung it open.

        “Jonghyun?” he asked, and Jonghyun truly didn’t know how to answer. He settled for clutching his throat and nodding his head.

        Minhyun brought him a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully. After downing it, he stood there awkwardly. Minhyun, who had been tidying up inside, looked up and laughed. “You can come in, you know.”

        “Um,” Jonghyun said. “Yeah.”

        He hung his coat up and turned around to find Minhyun and two other men examining him. He swore and backed up against the wall before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did you teach them this?”

        “Teach them what?” Minhyun prompted him. He let out a breathy laugh before flailing his arms.

        “The sneaking up thing,” he said, wedging himself into one corner of the couch, avoiding the piercing the gazes of the other two men.

        “No, we just picked it up ourselves,” One of them said, before sitting next to him in a frankly forward manner that unnerved Jonghyun. He smiled and held his hand out, “I’m Kim Jaehwan.”

        The other one sat beside him and offered a subdued smile. “I’m Jung Sewoon.”

        Jonghyun sat there for a few seconds, before his mind switched back on and reminded him that introductions had two ways. “I’m Kim Jonghyun.”

        Minhyun poked his head out from the kitchen with a bright smile. “Great, you’ve all met, can Jonghyun leave now?”

        “Can I leave now?” Jonghyun repeated, desperation leaking into his voice.

        Jaehwan shook his head. “What are you saying? You can’t leave already.”

        Jonghyun’s chest constricted tightly. “Yeah, you’re right. What is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

        “Where are you from?” Sewoon piped up.

        “Gangwon-do,” Jonghyun replied reluctantly.

        “What did you major in?” Jaehwan asked.

        Jonghyun bit back a bitter laugh. “Law, but I dropped out.”

        The other two exchanged a look that discomfited Jonghyun, before Sewoon continued, “What are your hobbies?”

        Jonghyun’s stomach dropped. “Sleep.”

        “Sleep?” Jaehwan asked, and Jonghyun cursed himself.

        “Uh,” Jonghyun said. “Yes. Sleep.”

        They exchanged a glance again, and he came to the conclusion that he was failing their test. Sewoon sighed. “What movies do you like?”

        “Documentaries,” Jonghyun said, and Jaehwan’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. In a hurried attempt to salvage himself, he added, “I like superhero movies too, I guess.”

        Jaehwan perked up. “Do you like the Avengers?”

        “Say no,” Sewoon begged, and Minhyun shouted agreement from the kitchen.

        “I mean,” Jonghyun said, scratching the back of his head. “I guess?”

        Sewoon face palmed while Jaehwan grinned, taking Jonghyun’s hand in his. “My only best friend.”

        Minhyun called, “What am I, a guava?”

        Jaehwan made a face, and Sewoon struggled not to smile.

        Jonghyun hid a smile, shifting on the couch.

        “Sewoon-ah!” Minhyun called. “Dinner’s canceled, could you go to the diner and get us burgers?”

        Sewoon collected everyone’s orders before leaving. He smiled at Jonghyun, when it was his turn. “It was nice meeting you!”

        “You too,” Jonghyun said dazedly. This was more social interaction than he’d had in years. After that, Jaehwan left him for a few minutes, rummaging through a battered old bag for something. Jonghyun looked through his phone, secretly relieved for the break. He was examining a news article on economic deficits when Minhyun nearly tripped into the living room.

        He met Jonghyun’s eyes and smiled, before clapping his hands together and straightening up. “Turns out I need to get something from the store! Don’t cause any trouble, Jaehwan.”

        “Like I would, hyung,” he replied sulkily. Minhyun raised his eyebrows and grabbed his coat before shutting the door behind him.

        Jaehwan immediately stopped looking through the bag, his phone in his hand. He sat back on the couch and scooted closer to Jonghyun, who tried his hardest to disappear into the upholstery. “What are you doing?”

        Jaehwan grinned. “Just an interview of sorts. I mean, you’re dating my best friend. It’s only routine.”

        Jonghyun worried his lip before answering. “I’m not _actually_ dating him—“

        “Actually, that was one of the things I wanted to speak to you about!” Jaehwan cut in, and his enthusiasm was almost cold. Jonghyun leaned back, examining him closely for the first time. Jaehwan smiled again and moved to the other side of the couch, allowing him his personal space.

        “So,” he said. “Why did you say yes?”

        “What do you mean?” Jonghyun asked, fully aware of what he meant and unable to answer.

        Jaehwan raised his eyebrows. “It’s a straightforward question. When Minhyun asked you to go on a date with him, why didn’t you tell him that you couldn’t? I mean, you’re his boss, it’s not a traditional favor to ask of you anyway.”

        Jonghyun blinked. “He gave me coffee.”

        The other man groaned and took his time taking a sip of water from the jug on the wood slab. “Pardon my language, but cut the fucking bullshit.”

        Jonghyun’s muscles tightened, and his head ached with an outwardly expanding pressure that threatened to shatter him. He struggled to keep his voice neutral when he replied, “I lead a pretty fucking boring life, Jaehwan-ssi. I had a free lunch, my relatively hardworking employee needed a favor, and you know what? I’m a good fucking boss, if I do say so myself. So I said yes. Does that answer your question?”

        Jaehwan made a hmph noise, as if mentally noting something. “So why’d you come along the second time?”

        Jonghyun shrugged, as if by doing so he could come up with a way to answer. “He’s a nice guy. And Dongho and Jeonghan are nice too. It’s not the worst way to spend an afternoon.”

        Jaehwan made another humming sound. “Fair point. So why’d you agree to go long term?”

        Jonghyun couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. He wasn’t even sure why he’d agreed in the first place. He cocked his head, and said, “I don’t know. Wanted to help out a friend, I guess. Minhyun’s hard to turn down.”

        He grinned at that, nodding in agreement. “Okay, you check out. I still need to give you my spiel though.”

        “Your what?”

        Jaehwan waved his hand. “You know, the whole ‘oh, you’re fake dating my best friend so I have to threaten you into making sure you never break their heart unless you want to die in a pit of burning acid’ speech?”

        “I’m quite sure that’s not how it goes,” Jonghyun said uneasily.

        Jaehwan wrinkled his nose. “Whatever, it’s all the same!” He shifted on the couch, eyes unfocused for a second. He met Jonghyun’s gaze then, and a weight sunk into his stomach. He exhaled before he said, “Just don’t hurt him, okay? I know it’s fake to you, and it probably is to him too, but… He doesn’t do this often. Don’t let him give you his heart if you’re only going to break it.”

        Jonghyun’s ears rung, and he clenched his hands in an attempt to distract himself. Out of some cruel curiosity, he asked, “And if I do?”

        Jaehwan laughed then, and Jonghyun decided he never wanted to hear that sound ever again. “Just don’t.”

        Jonghyun opened his mouth to speak, but a quiet knock sounded, and Jaehwan shook himself out and went to answer. Sewoon handed him a bag and a drink, kissing his cheek when Jaehwan leaned into him. Jonghyun resumed his article on economics, before deciding to play Candy Crush.

        Minhyun returned a couple minutes later, placing plastic cutlery on the wooden slab before waving his hand. “Jonghyun-ah!”

        Jonghyun blinked, and looked over. Minhyun smiled. “You seemed a bit out of it.”

        “Ah,” Jonghyun replied, reorienting himself. “Yeah.”

        Minhyun was unperturbed by the terse response. “Dinner’s in five minutes, wash up if you can.”

        Jaehwan called, “Clean freak!”

        Minhyun scowled. “I am _not_ a clean freak. It’s not _my_ fault you don’t know what personal hygiene is.”

        Jaehwan stuck out his tongue before reluctantly leaving for the bathroom. Jonghyun followed him, unwilling to stay in the living room any longer. He felt untethered, yet tied down by something so crushingly grounded. He rubbed his temples as though that would alleviate the pressure building in his head.

_What are you doing?_

        The thought, disdainful and disappointed echoed in his skull, and he leaned his head back against the plaster, looking for an answer where he knew he wouldn’t find one. What _was_ he doing? Every time, he said he wouldn’t get committed, and then he found himself here, deadlocked into a web of lies that would slowly consume him. He inhaled slowly, trying to distract himself from the tight feeling in his gut.

        Jaehwan’s voice came back to him then, and he exhaled through his clenched teeth, a whistling sound barely audible. He swore quietly, biting his tongue to stop when Jaehwan reentered Minhyun’s bedroom and held his hand out, as if to usher Jonghyun inside.

        It was clean to the point of sterility, the air pungent with the fading scent of detergent and ammonia. Jonghyun tipped a small bottle of store bought soap into his hands, recoiling at the lack of viscosity before he realized it was a mixture of soap and water. He washed his hands quickly, but then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Though not necessarily self absorbed, something in his own gaze caught him off guard—it was nearly foreign.

        Jonghyun’s hands burned with cold, and he blinked before switching off the tap. When he turned around, Minhyun was leaned against the door. Too exhausted to be frightened, he simply sighed and dried his hands on his jeans.

        Minhyun kept his eyes on him, no trace of judgment in his expression. “Dinner’s ready.”

        “I’m coming,” he assured him, and he turned around and returned to the living room.

        Jonghyun ran a wet hand through his hair, observing how it made strands stick up. Seeing the effects of his own actions at such a small level was sobering for some reason, and he patted it down before following Minhyun back.

        The dinner finished quickly, though Jonghyun stayed after to finish watching the Avengers, since, _apparently,_ it was Jaehwan’s favorite movie. Minhyun fell asleep halfway through, head lolled against Jonghyun’s shoulder. He seemed happier like this, as if a weight had been released from his shoulders. Jonghyun briefly wondered if he would one day add to that burden before he forced himself to continue watching the ending credits.

        After the last name passed the screen, Jonghyun shifted on the couch, guiding Minhyun’s head so it was well padded by the lumpy cushion before pulling a throw blanket over him. He retrieved his coat and waved a quiet goodbye to the other two men. Sewoon smiled at him and mouthed a quiet, ‘go home safely’, while Jaehwan simply returned his gaze, a silent reminder and warning.

        After shutting the door behind him, he took a few seconds to ground himself before starting down the steps. His gait was unsteady, but all he could focus on was the thrumming in his head.

_What are you doing?_

\--

        Things slowed to a halt again, on October tenth.

        Minhyun had entered Jonghyun’s office that morning with a cup of coffee, only to realize that for the first time in a year, he was absent. He sighed, and auctioned off the cup to Yebin. He leaned against Nayoung’s desk. “Do you think he’s part of a cult?”

        Nayoung choked on her latte. “ _Who_ is part of a cult?”

        “Jonghyun,” Minhyun replied, absentmindedly fiddling with his tie. “He never misses a day of work, except for October tenth.”

        “Not always,” she points out. “He was here last year, just not the year before. I doubt cults have biannual holidays.”

        “Maybe he’s sick with a terminal disease that only affects him every…” Minhyun counted on his fingers, “Seven hundred twenty-nine days.”

        Nayoung’s expression was weary. “Maybe he’s being a normal human being for once, and taking a break day.”

        Minhyun sighed. It was an unlikely concept—Jonghyun taking a break—but it was the best they had. As it was, Nayoung and Minhyun had to handle the office for the day, which was bearable, apart from the interns. Seokmin and Seungkwan had become convinced that the world was close to its end, which, to be fair, was probably Minghao’s fault, who was gleefully watching them losing their minds while eating burnt microwave popcorn. Hansol was trying to reassure Seungkwan who was attempting to draw symbols in Sharpie on the office walls.

        “Who even chose them?” Minhyun said, equally awed and horrified.

        “Branch heads,” Nayoung replied, surreptitiously watching lesbian porn on her laptop. Minhyun decided not to comment on it.

        After a few minutes of Chan trying to wrestle the Sharpie from Seungkwan’s hands and Seokmin wailing hysterically, Minhyun grew tired and walked over to Jihoon’s desk.  Jihoon yawned and finished tapping out an email.

        “Jihoon.” Minhyun said.

        “Minhyun hyung.” Jihoon answered without looking up.

        “If you get Seokmin to shut up, I’ll get Jonghyun to buy you doughnuts for a week,” Minhyun said.

        Jihoon blinked and shifted in his chair. “Okay. Glazed, though.”

        Minhyun winced as Jihoon quickly resolved the issue, turning his attention to Seungkwan. He was sobbing in a corner. Hansol was trying to get him to drink some water, since apparently crying is dehydrating.

        “Hey, Seungkwan,” he said, attempting a soothing voice. God, he wished Jonghyun were here right now.

        “Hey, hyung,” Seungkwan replied, peeking at him over the top of his knees.

        “The world’s not ending, you know,” Minhyun said awkwardly. “Minghao’s just trying to mess with you.”

        “How do you know?” he said, gaze intense. “What if the world _is_ ending?”

        “Well, you know,” Minhyun said. “The world is always in the process of ending. But it’s not going to end _now._ That’s not how science works.”

        “Fuck science,” Seungkwan said, and Minhyun felt a bit out of his depth.

        “Um,” he said. “Do you want ice cream?”

        Seungkwan brightened. “Can we get chocolate swirl?”

        Hansol poked Minhyun’s leg. “I want some too.”

        And so that was resolved. Yet even after Minhyun returned to the office with the sedated interns, even after the day ended, Seungkwan’s words stayed with him. How did he know? How was he sure of anything in his life?

        Minhyun pulled the light switches, watching the room fall into darkness, before turning around and unlocking the elevator. Complications in his neighborhood made the walk home longer than he’d thought, and when he finally collapsed on his couch at eight, narrowly escaping a thunderstorm, he could only find the strength to fill a bowl with crackers and switch on the television.

        An indeterminable amount of time later, his phone rang. He shifted and put it to his ear. “Mm?”

        “Hyung!” It was Jaehwan. “Have you eaten?”

        Minhyun yawned. “What time is it?”

        “It’s nearly midnight,” Jaehwan replied, and Minhyun blinked. “I’m going to take the silence as a no?”

        “Sorry,” Minhyun said sheepishly.

        Jaehwan sighed. “Can’t you make something now?”

        Minhyun made a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine. “I’m _tired.”_

        The other man snorted. “Where would you be without me? I’ll order a pizza to your place, just try to get up when the door rings.”

        “Are pizza places open this late?” Minhyun asked, shifting to lie on his back.

        “I have my ways,” Jaehwan said vaguely. “Just sit tight and watch your dramas.”

        Minhyun was satisfied with this solution. “How was your day?”

        “My day?” Jaehwan asked. “Amazing. Sewoon’s a really creative guy.”

        “That’s not what I meant,” Minhyun managed, furiously trying to erase the images appearing in his mind.

        Jaehwan laughed and a crackling sound was heard from his end before he continued. “Well, it mostly just consisted of that and watching Inside Out. Wait—actually, something else. Jisung’s in town.”

        Minhyun perked up. “I haven’t seen him in a while. What’s he doing here?”

        “He got a job offer here that paid better than Busan? Not sure, Sungwoon was pretty vague,” Jaehwan answered. “We should all meet up sometime. We can bring the kids too.”

        “One, Seongwoo is older than you,” Minhyun said. “Two, the other three aren’t that young.”

        “They are babies,” Jaehwan said firmly. “Children.”

            “Woojin and Jihoon are like three years younger than you,” Minhyun said, mulling the idea over in his head. “That’s a good idea, though.”

        On the other end, there was a faint scuffling noise, and then a plop. Jaehwan’s voice reappeared, angrier than before. “I dropped my ice cream.”

        A faint knocking came at the door.  Minhyun pushed himself up to a sitting position. “The pizza is here—wait, you did what?”

        “My _ice cream!”_ Jaehwan wailed.

        “Yeah, give me a second, and then we can mourn your ice cream,” Minhyun said, pulling his wallet out of his coat pocket.

        He unlocked the door, holding out two ten thousand won billsl to a rain soaked Jonghyun.

        Outside, it was still pouring. The intense winds flung small droplets of rain into the apartment, and they were lukewarm, reminiscent of tears. Jonghyun stood leaned against the back railing, dark hair plastered to his forehead and dripping onto the cold cement. Visible tremors ran through his shoulders, he hunched himself as if to conserve any remnant of warmth. His eyes were hooded, gaze glued to the floor and muscles tightened in a near painful posture.

        Minhyun was paralyzed, hand still outstretched. After a few seconds, a few minutes, even, he brought his phone back to his ear and quietly said, “I’m going to have to call you back.”

        Without listening for Jaehwan’s response, he hung up and placed the phone carefully on the wood slab before returning to the door. Jonghyun had still not looked up, hadn’t even moved at all. Minhyun stepped forward and blinked to clear water from his eyes before leaning forward. “Jonghyun-ah.”

        He seemed to arouse from a trance, and his neck snapped up. His eyes met Minhyun’s, yet they seemed unfocused. Rain trickled down his face, down his neck, yet he was still frozen, a specter of the man Minhyun knew.

        “Jonghyun-ah,” he repeated, a grounding statement, but he wasn’t sure who he was trying to ground.

        “Minhyun,” Jonghyun managed, voice raspy from disuse. Encouraged slightly by the response, Minhyun tentatively put his hand on his shoulder. Jonghyun flinched, but let him guide him inside. He shut the door behind him, and suddenly the reality of the situation dawned on him.

        Minhyun kneeled in front of Jonghyun, who had fixed himself on the carpet. “Take a shower.”

        Jonghyun blinked. “But—“

        “You’ve obviously been out for a while, and that’s unhealthy in the rain,” Minhyun scolded him, trying to mask the uncertainty in his voice. “Take a long, hot shower. You can use some of my clothes. I’m guessing you haven’t had dinner.”

        Jonghyun shook his head. Minhyun tried again. “What about lunch?” Jonghyun looked away, eyes clouded. _“Breakfast?”_ Again, nothing but silence. Minhyun sighed. “I’ll get you something to eat. Be careful in the bathroom, you might slip, I disinfected it earlier.”

        Jonghyun reluctantly unfolded himself from the floor, and shook himself out slightly, like a puppy. Once he disappeared into Minhyun’s bedroom, he allowed himself a few minutes.

        Minhyun felt woefully unqualified to do this for someone—to help someone. He wasn’t good at help. He was good at needing help and not asking for it. But Jonghyun had shown up drenched and ruined and it was just a bit after midnight and his heart ached with the desire to make sure he never felt like this again.

        A small scuffle sounded and the door opened again, Jonghyun poking his head out. His expression was still unreadable, but he worried his lip. “Where do I put my clothes?”

        Minhyun came to terms with the fact that Jonghyun was naked behind the door painfully slowly. He tightened his hand around his thigh and forced a semblance of a smile on his face. “Just put it in the hamper, I’ll put it in my weekly laundry and get it back to you later.”

        Jonghyun nodded and shut the door again. Minhyun exhaled deeply, leaning his head against the leg of the sofa for support. He slapped his face once, gently, and then another time.

        “Get yourself together, Minhyun,” he said dazedly. He forced himself up and onto the couch. The doorbell rang, again, and he flinched. Tentatively, he peeked through the glass hole. An indistinct figure in a bright red uniform was restlessly tapping his foot.

        Minhyun grabbed his wallet and opened the door. The young man, as he could now see, looked up and handed him a pizza box before pulling a receipt out of his pocket and rambling off the order in a monotone. “Large cheese pizza, no toppings. Is that right?”

        “Um,” Minhyun replied, unsure of what order Jaehwan placed but willing to eat cardboard at this point, “Yes.”

        The pizza guy, whose nametag read ‘Lai Guanlin’ in block letters, grunted as if he wasn’t really listening. “That’ll be twenty thousand won.”

        He pulled out the bills and Guanlin took them, straightened himself up, and left. Minhyun blinked at the peculiarity of it all, but he didn’t have much time to ponder it. Shutting the door, he heard a crash in his room.

        Suddenly, he was in motion, unaware of his own actions, of his own motives. He threw open the door, only to find Jonghyun sprawled on the floor, one of Minhyun’s shirts half on. A wound was visible on his shoulder, and it stained the shirt rust red. He looked up at Minhyun, and offered a rueful smile.

        Minhyun opened his mouth to say something—to ask _why_ he was bleeding, to demand an explanation, to try to soothe him in his pain—but found his throat dry and his heart tight. In a small voice, he said, “Stay here.”

        “Where would I go?” Jonghyun said, and his voice sent a pang through Minhyun’s chest—it was some bastardized synthesis of hopelessness and genuine curiosity.

        Minhyun forced himself to turn around, to walk to the kitchen and pull his first aid kit out of a cabinet. He willed his hands to stop shaking—he was used to this. This was nothing to new to him—yet the time he had spent in complacency had softened him, and now this reminder stung.

        When he returned to the room, Jonghyun had propped himself up against the plastic chair that Minhyun used as a nightstand. He was examining the plain white walls intensely, as if they would answer a question that plagued him. Minhyun cleared his throat, and his eyes flickered away. There was something sterile about his gaze, so carefully neutral, that was both saddening and unnerving.

        Minhyun knelt beside him, carefully pulling the shirt over his head. He put it beside him, struggling to keep his eyes off of Jonghyun’s chest. It wasn’t a bad chest as far as chests went—it was a great chest. Minhyun had only seen a couple chests that warranted commentary, but he felt as though Jonghyun’s was definitely on the higher end of the chest scale.

        He pulled out a small amount of gauze and leaned forward. He stopped a few centimeters before the wound and looked up—he was merely millimeters from Jonghyun’s face. “Is this okay?”

        Jonghyun didn’t say anything for a second, and then turned away from him and nodded. “Yeah.”

        Minhyun dressed the wound quickly and efficiently, and moved to pack up without meeting his gaze. Jonghyun pulled the shirt over his head in his periphery. Minhyun attempted a conversational tone, and said, “How did that even happen?”

        “What?” Jonghyun said, visibly surprised.

        “The wound reopened,” Minhyun said. “You just took a shower—that should have cleaned it out well enough. Why was it bleeding?”

        He made an indiscernible noise. Minhyun leaned forward. “What?”

        “I tripped,” Jonghyun repeated, nose reddening. “I tripped and I hit my shoulder against the side of your frame.”

        He wasn’t sure whether to believe him—it seemed contrived, yet very much the sort of thing Jonghyun would do. In the end, he just sighed and clicked the kit closed. “Does it hurt anymore?”

        “Not really,” Jonghyun murmured. He looked up and caught Minhyun’s gaze. “Thanks.”

        Happiness bloomed in Minhyun’s chest, as little and straggly as it was. “Yeah. It’s, um, fine.”

        They sat there for a while, unwilling to move past this comfortable late night silence. Eventually, Minhyun got up and turned around to leave the room. Without looking back, he said, “The pizza’s here. It’s probably cold by now, though.”

        “I don’t mind,” Jonghyun said. He used the edge of the bed to pull himself up, exposing his upper shoulder in the process. Minhyun quickly returned to the living room.

        Minhyun used two empty bins to hold the dead coffee table up, placing the pizza box on top of it. He pulled two cans of beer and a bottle of water from the refrigerator and placed them beside the box, clicking on the television and resuming his drama.

        A few minutes later, Jonghyun reentered the room. His hair stuck up in different directions. It seemed fluffy almost, soft and warm with the pressure of the towel. Minhyun’s sweatpants were a bit too long on him and he had cuffed them several times at the bottom so they rolled up to his mid shin. His shirt clung to his still damp body, loose at places and nearly translucent at others.

        He wordlessly sat down beside him, curling into the couch and observing the show. After a few minutes, he said, “He should just confess to her.”

        Minhyun started. “What?”

        “The leads,” he said, gesturing at the screen vaguely. “It’s obvious they both have feelings for each other. They should just confess.”

        Minhyun laughed. “I wish things were that easy in real life.”

        “Aren’t they?” Jonghyun asked.

        Minhyun smiled, and opened the pizza box. “Not always.” He pulled out a slice and handed it to Jonghyun. “You can have this under one condition.”

        Jonghyun raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

        “We play a game,” Minhyun said. “I ask you questions, you answer them, you get food.”

        The other man’s expression washed over, suddenly unreadable once more. “What kind of questions?”

        Minhyun shrugged. “Important ones. But you can pass if you really need to.”

        Jonghyun seemed hesitant, but finally nodded, accepting the slice of pizza with no little amount of glee. He took a bite, chewed, and then said, “What do you want to know?”

        “Why weren’t you at work today?” Minhyun asked, before eating his own slice.

        Jonghyun cocked his head, and swallowed before answering. “Personal reasons.”

        “Yearly personal reasons?” Minhyun asked. “Is it an anniversary or a holiday?”

        Jonghyun shook his head. “Not answering until I get my second slice.”

        “Asshole,” Minhyun muttered. “Here’s a can of beer instead. Answer my question.”

        He took a long gulp and wiped his mouth. “Anniversary.”

        “If it’s an important anniversary, why did you come to work last year?” Minhyun pointed out.

        Jonghyun wrinkled his nose. “I try to complete my duties as a functioning adult if I can. If I can’t, then I can’t. Last year was a bit easier.”

        “Easier how?”

        “Pass,” Jonghyun said, and pulled another slice from the box.

        Minhyun sighed and took a moment to stretch before continuing. “Where’s the wound from?”

        Jonghyun seemed reluctant to answer this one, taking his time before he looked back up at Minhyun. “Bad decisions.”

        “I’m assuming I’m not getting any details on what kinds of bad decisions?” Minhyun asked, wearily wiping his eyes.

        Jonghyun laughed, and though little, a spark of humor was audible. “Nope.”

        Minhyun smiled at that, and lolled his head back against the couch. “I’ll wait, then.”

        That surprised him, and Jonghyun turned to see him more clearly. “Wait for what?”

        Minhyun quirked a smile. “Wait for you to tell me.”

        “That’s unlikely,” Jonghyun said lightly, watching his eyes intensely.

        “I’m a patient man,” Minhyun replied.

        They stayed like that for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. Minhyun squinted at the time on his phone, trying to calm himself down, but started laughing even harder. “It’s two am.”

        Jonghyun exhaled deeply, faint smile still on his face. “Guess I’m staying over again.”

        “Yeah,” Minhyun said. “I’ll take the couch this time, you can take the bed.”

        Jonghyun snorted. “No way. I show up at your house at midnight, bleeding, and force you to feed me, and _you’re_ sleeping on the couch?”

        “You’re _injured,_ Jonghyun, _”_ Minhyun emphasized. “What kind of shit friend would I be if I let you sleep on the couch?”

        Jonghyun narrowed his eyes in thought. “Let’s just both sleep on the bed.”

        Minhyun blinked. “I mean. Okay.”

        “Okay,” Jonghyun said.

        Minhyun swallowed. “Let’s just finish this episode then.”

        They were roughly three fourths through the drama. It was a modern one about a florist who was secretly a trainee and the idol she fell in love with. He confessed to her with a bouquet of flowers—Jonghyun had squealed. But then, tragedy struck in the form of the idol getting in a scandal with someone from another company. The female lead was locked in her room, pondering whether to kick him to the curb or allow him to explain.

        “Drop him,” Jonghyun whispered intensely.

        “It’s just a drama, Jonghyun-ah,” Minhyun laughed, but the other man had his eyes glued to the screen.

        “I hate guys like that,” Jonghyun said without looking away. “People who fuck up others’ lives and walk out as if they hold no responsibility. I know them well enough.”

        Minhyun said nothing, watching the curve of his face cast in the bluish light of the television. A muffled crash sounded—the woman had thrown her phone across the room.

        The episode ended quickly enough—the idol had shown up at her shop, begging to let him explain, and she had stood there for a bit, silent, before the credits rolled. A preview of the next episode showed the company CEO yelling at the idol, the florist running as if her life depended on it, and a cute picnic date.

        Minhyun turned the television off and the room plunged into darkness again. Beside him, Jonghyun had fallen asleep, using his arm and a wadded up throw blanket as a pillow. His face was almost angelic—a deception and yet a truth. Minhyun quietly stood up and took him in his arms; he was frighteningly light. He walked to his room and placed him on the bed, tucking him into the blanket, stopping when Jonghyun shifted and turned over, murmuring something quiet.

        Minhyun strained to hear him, but could only make out the word ‘leave’. He left it alone, returning to the living room to clean up. He quietly went through his night time routine, plugging his phone at 4:34 am. He watched Jonghyun sleep, unsure of how to get into the bed without waking him. He settled for putting in one limb at a time, slowly as to not shake the bed too much.

        Jonghyun’s eyes were fluttered close, just millimeters from Minhyun’s own. Minhyun clenched his fingers into a fist at his side, and inhaled quietly, head dizzy from the poor circulation of the room.

        He fell asleep like that, simply watching.

\--

        The next morning, Minhyun woke to an empty indentation in the bed, still warm to the touch yet rapidly cooling, and a note on a cup of tea on the revived coffee table.

        It read: _Now we’re even._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu at @hwanguit on twt i'd b so happy :D also comments and kudos REALLY make my day leave some if you can :'")


	5. hooked on all these feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some idiots have a halloween party. hijinks ensue. tw for LOTS of alcohol use, some messy stuff implied including abuse. title from hayley kiyoko's feelings... the best song ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple things!! just wanted to mention that earlier i said that minhyun n jaehwan met 11 yrs ago it's actually 15 yrs ago, minhyun was 11. also, this is one of the longer chapters so far AND it's p dialogue heavy so... Fun :D also small tangent but i once had an english teacher that got pissed every time we repeated a word so every single time i repeat an action or word it's... Relevant keep an eye out for that!!!! u may have noticed i turned this into a series + added a number of chapters... this is kinda a Loose number around 13 for the first arc, i'm not sure how long the second arc will b but we will CROSS that bridge when we get to it! this update came a bit later than they usually do im sorry D:

 

“We’re not _children,_ Jaehwan,” Minhyun said, taking a sip of tea and lying down on the couch.

“Who says Halloween is for children?” Jaehwan counters, plopping down beside him and pulling his knees in. “Societal norms, that’s who. And who are we to stick to societal norms? We’re _gay.”_

Minhyun groaned. “I’m too broke to have this conversation with you right now.”

Jaehwan waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter—Niel’s going to pay for everything, Sungwoon told me.”

“Niel?” Minhyun asked.

“Daniel, Sungwoon’s husband,” Jaehwan replied. “He’s fucking loaded.”

“Right,” Minhyun said. “Because Sungwoon’s just going to be like, ‘My friends’ friend’s friend is hosting a Halloween party and we need funds, could you loan us a couple hundred thousand won?’”

Jaehwan scowled. “All I’m saying: participate, even minimally, in the Skype call! I don’t even care if you pass out halfway as long as they all know you were conscious at one point.”

“I’m really feeling the love,” Minhyun said drily.

“That’s my job,” Jaehwan said smugly. “Besides, all you do is work and watch your dramas anyway. You need a party! Socialization! Yay!”

Minhyun crossed his arms. “I do much more than work and watch dramas.”

“Like what?” Jaehwan pointed out.

“I clean my house,” Minhyun said. “I also talk with Jonghyun, and you and Sewoon, and sometimes I have coffee with the kids. Last weekend, Seongwoo and I had a conversation!”

Jaehwan looked near death. “I will convince Sungwoon to finance this party if it is the last thing I do.”

Minhyun huffed and switched on the television, clicking decisively on Cupcake Wars. Jaehwan winced. “Do you like watching programs of things you’re incapable of doing?”

Minhyun threw a lumpy pillow at him, which he dodged deftly, leaving Minhyun to fall back to a now unpadded coach frame. He let out a wail of pain, but Jaehwan only laughed at him. Instead, Jaehwan took the brief respite from Minhyun’s whining to grab his laptop from his bag and start clicking on things furiously. Minhyun attempted to pull himself up to a sitting position but slid back down unsuccessfully. “What are you _doing?”_

“I,” Jaehwan said. “Am doing something crucial.”

“Jaehwan-ah,” Minhyun said dangerously. “That was far too vague.”

Jaehwan made a dismissive noise. “Whatever, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

The laptop made a beeping noise and the near silent room filled with background noise. A muffled, yet still recognizable voice, crackled out a, “Jaehwan?”

“Jisung hyung!” Jaehwan said cheerfully.

Minhyun yanked his feet out from under Jaehwan and started kicking him. He screeched, “What are you _doing?”_

Jaehwan glanced at him but didn’t answer. Jisung coughed a laugh from the other side of the screen. “Sungwoon and Daniel aren’t here yet, sorry. Is there anyone with you right now?”

“Ah yes,” Jaehwan said, a devilish smile flickering on his face. “You remember Minhyun hyung right?”

“Jaehwan-ah,” Minhyun whined.

“Hyung,” Jaehwan replied, leaning in. “Socialization is important.”

“I acknowledge this,” Minhyun whispered angrily. “But I need a twenty four hour notice before any form of it, so this is _completely out of the question.”_

“Minhyun?” Jisung asked. Minhyun winced and leaned forward so he was visible in the webcam.

“Hey, hyung,” he said weakly.

Jisung laughed. “You two are still together, huh?”

Jaehwan wrinkled his nose. “As if hyung could get rid of me that easily.”

Minhyun ignored him. “What’s this about a _Halloween_ party?”

“I’m not sure whose idea it was,” Jisung said. “Probably Jaehwan’s, but Sungwoon’s been wanting to plan one forever. It’s not an entirely bad idea—Sungwoon’s house is huge.”

“I’ve heard,” Minhyun said drily. As if on cue, a faraway slam sounded and a couple seconds later, two more heads poked themselves into the scope of the webcam.

“Hi, Jaehwan!” One of them said cheerfully. Jaehwan grinned and raised a hand in greeting.

The other cocked his head. “Who’s the other guy?”

Jisung tsked. “Try again, Sungwoon-ah.”

Sungwoon, presumably, frowned, and painstakingly managed an introduction. “Hello, I’m Ha Sungwoon. What’s your name?”

Minhyun had fixed his gaze on a photo framed on Jisung’s wall, and blinked at the sudden attention. “Uh. I’m Hwang Minhyun, nice to meet you.”

Jaehwan whispered, “At least look like you’re paying attention, hyung.”

Minhyun scowled at him before turning his attention back to the screen. The third man, who he assumed was Daniel, had left, and Sungwoon and Jisung were in an intense debate about the appropriate color for curtains.

“Pink? Who the fuck has pink cu—“ Jisung broke off when he saw Minhyun and Jaehwan watching him. He attempted a smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Minhyun said awkwardly and cleared his throat. “So, who are we inviting?”

They finally decided on fourteen people, including themselves, which relieved Minhyun. Though Sungwoon’s assured them that his house was, in fact, quite spacious, large parties had always unsettled him. Minhyun opened his mouth to discuss decorations, but Sungwoon cut him off.

“I’ve got,” he said, spreading his hands. “The perfect idea. Champagne. Dracula. Swarovski crystals. Jello. Dry ice—“

Jisung cut him off. “How about you just handle all of the decorations? Do whatever you want.”

Sungwoon seemed content with that. “Can you all chip in with some fast food? Daniel only has jam around here.”

Minhyun nodded. “There’s a good diner near my place.”

“Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me,” Jaehwan said, “I have to help this senior citizen get to sleep. He has a curfew.”

“I’m going to spike your drink with cyanide,” Minhyun threatened, but Jaehwan just laughed and waved a cheerful goodbye.

“It was nice talking to you again, Minhyun,” Jisung smiled.

“You too,” he replied. “It’s been too long.”

Minhyun allowed himself a small smile, and ended the call. Jaehwan turned to look at him from where he was folding laundry. He had Jonghyun’s shirt in his hand—a corner was still tinted light pink. A silent question in his eyes, he asked, “You don’t have to go to the party if you don’t want to, you know. I can cover up for you.”

“No,” Minhyun said. “I’ll go. I want to.”

Jaehwan nodded and folded the shirt before looking up again, all previous seriousness washed from his face. “Anyway, you should get your ass to work. You’ll be fired if you miss any more shifts.”

Minhyun rolled his eyes, but left and thought nothing more of it.

\--

Minhyun told him about the party a couple days in advance, which was discomfiting, since they both required several days of notice before things like this. He had swung open his office door just as he was beginning to pack up for the day and blurted, “What do you think about Halloween?”

“It’s a good holiday,” Jonghyun had replied, confused about his intent. “Lots of candy. Nice decorations.”

“Okay,” Minhyun had said, half to himself. “What do you think about parties?”

Jonghyun had snorted. “I don’t have the best track record with them. Why do you ask?”

“My friend’s hosting a Halloween party,” Minhyun had explained. “And at first, I didn’t think to invite you, since you won’t know most of the people there. But then we invited Dongho.”

Jonghyun had made a noise of understanding. “I see. Well, it’s not like I have anything else to be doing. I’d probably have come over to your house anyway.”

Minhyun had heaved a relieved sigh and smiled at him. That smile was Jonghyun’s mortal enemy—it had far more power over him than it ought to have.

           Unfortunately, Jonghyun didn’t own anything that could be perceived as a Halloween costume. He briefly considered cutting out holes in a box and going as Schr ö dinger’s human, but decided it was too weird to wear to a party of strangers. He finally threw on a light blue shirt and jeans and dug through his drawer for the headband he’d bought at the amusement park. 

            The ride on the subway was awkward to say the least. Even with the headband stuffed in his pocket, the knowledge that one of the appendages was sticking out bothered him to no end. In an attempt to distract himself, he pulled out his phone and busied himself with checking and double checking the address. Finally, he sent a simple message to Minhyun.

**jonghyun:** where r u

A small pause of blinking bubbles and then—

**minhyunie:** jaehwan n i r getting some food. u wanna meet up at the eternity coffee shop? it’s a couple blocks from sungwoon’s place.

Jonghyun smiled.

**jonghyun:** sounds good

The intercom overhead beeped and told him he was at his destination. Headband half crumpled in his hand, he struggled to move forward in the scrum, finally managing to step onto the platform. He returned the headband surreptitiously to his pocket and searched up ‘Eternity Coffee’ on Google.

It was a quaint looking joint, all tan polished wood and handwritten blackboard menu signs. Jonghyun opened the door and tentatively poked his head, scanning the almost empty shop for Minhyun and Jaehwan. They were seated in the back, Jaehwan’s head on Minhyun’s neck as he expressively complained about something.

“Hello!” A bright voice directed Jonghyun’s attention back to the present. A young man, probably around twenty at the oldest, in an apron was smiling at him. “What’d you like to order?”

“Um,” Jonghyun said, unconsciously stepping back. “I’m just here for a friend.”

The man, a boy really, rolled his eyes and turned around. “Minhyun hyung, your boyfriend’s here!”     

Minhyun looked up and smiled at Jonghyun before pulling Jaehwan off him and walking to the front. He raised his eyebrows at the youth. “He’s not my boyfriend, Seonho.”

“Close enough,” the boy said in a voice too bright to actually be cheerful. “He’s still my rival.”

“Your what now?” Jonghyun interrupted, glancing at Minhyun for clarification.

“Stop, you’re scaring Jonghyun,” Minhyun scolded. “Now change into your costume, we have to leave in five minutes!”

Seonho disappeared into the kitchen, and Minhyun turned his attention back to him. He was dressed as what Jonghyun assumed was a vampire, with a long black sheet and a ribbon for a cape on top of a white shirt and black jeans. He’d painted a drop of red blood on the edge of his chin. He laughed, a sudden and melodious sound, and Jonghyun cocked his head in confusion. He put his hand to his mouth to calm himself, and then managed a broken, “ _What_ is your costume?”

Jonghyun looked down, suddenly aware of what a terrible choice he’d made. “You _said_ I looked like Wartortle.”

Minhyun grinned and it revealed a slight shimmer of glitter on his skin. Jonghyun tried not to stare at the way it made his cheeks glow. “I didn’t know you would do _this.”_

“It’s good, though, right?” Jonghyun asked. “Should I change?”

“No,” Minhyun said. “I like it.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Jaehwan said, finally finding the energy to drag himself from the booth in the back. “Keep it down. Some of us are trying to nap.”

“You had twelve hours of sleep last night,” Minhyun said and Jaehwan only laughed.

“I’m preparing myself,” he said. “I’m going to pull an all nighter tonight.”

Minhyun nodded sagely in agreement, then leaned forward, and whispered, “Bet you five thousand won he passes out before eleven.”

“Ten thousand,” Jonghyun challenged, stomach tumbling uncontrollably. Minhyun smiled and nodded acquiescence before moving back. The air still hung with the scent of blossoms.

Seonho chose that moment to reappear, a tablecloth draped over his clothes and white paint smeared on his face. He said, “Boo!”

“I’m so scared,” Minhyun said sarcastically, taking him by the arm before turning and yelling, “Get your ass over here, Kim Jaehwan, or I’m telling Sewoon about how you spent his birthday money on an action figure.”

Jaehwan pulled himself to a sitting position and appeared beside Minhyun at a speed Jonghyun wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it himself. He said, “Where’s Sewoon?”

Minhyun waved his hand. “He went over early and started setting up. Let’s go.”

Minhyun’s friend’s friend’s place was a sleek penthouse apartment in an equally elegant building. Jonghyun felt intimidated just standing in front of it. Minhyun seemed to feel similarly, and refused to look up, instead opting to pull the other three in. He pressed a few buttons on a pad attached to the main entrance and static spilled out.

“Who is it?” Sewoon’s pleasant voice was garbled by the static.

“Minhyun,” he said. “And company.”

Sewoon laughed. “Come on up.”

An electronic beep unlocked the gate, and Minhyun glanced over his shoulder once, waving a beckoning hand, before going on without them. The interior of the building was similarly fancy, and Jonghyun kept his eyes on the marble flooring before they got into the elevator, causing him to nearly walk into a pillar. Minhyun stopped him before he did, gripping his arm and walking towards the elevator. Jonghyun’s skin burned with cold.

The elevator was even fancier, if possible, with ornate golden plaques in places Jonghyun didn’t think they were strictly necessary. Minhyun pressed a button with a curling black eleven written on it, and Jonghyun fiddled with his headband.

“You should put it on,” Minhyun whispered, and Jonghyun looked up, startled.

“Why?” he said, self consciously folding the ears in. “It looks weird.”

“It’s cute,” Minhyun said, and Jonghyun’s hands tightened on the felt of the band. “Besides, you need a costume of some sort.”

The elevator dinged, and the door opened to an expansive entryway. Jonghyun swallowed hard, and put the headband on his head, squeezing the ears for luck.

Sewoon poked his head out of an adjoining room. “Come on in.”

Jonghyun took a step forward, and recoiled. The floor was thick with smoke—dry ice. Minhyun put his hand on his shoulder and laughed. “You’re such a scaredy cat.”

Jonghyun said nothing, simply curling into the touch. Jaehwan, accustomed to the penthouse after only a few seconds, strode forward and kissed Sewoon on the cheek. Sewoon wrinkled his nose at him and Seonho rolled his eyes. “Where’s the food?”

Sewoon laughed. “Follow me.”

The room he led them was what Jonghyun assumed to be the living room. A couch set spread out to leave a space before the television stand took up one side of the room. The other side held shelves overflowing with jars of what looked like jam and a long table with a bright orange plastic sheet on it.

In terms of decorations, the host had spared no expense, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling, intricate spiders with red eyes hanging from them. Blood and ectoplasm speckled the wall and a witch’s cauldron half Jonghyun’s height stood in the corner of the room, a gnarled broomstick stuck inside. The back edge of the room had floor to ceiling windows, which were covered with thick white webbing studded with crystals. Jonghyun wasn’t sure what their purpose was, but they were eye catching.

“Take a seat,” a startlingly familiar voice called, “We’re still trying to get some of the booze but for all intents and purposes, the party’s started.”

Jonghyun’s blood froze in his veins and he tightened his hand into a loose fist to keep it from shaking. He forced himself to look up, to do what was expected of him. His mind screamed, _Run._

“Jonghyun?” Jisung asked, confusion blatant on his face. Jonghyun’s skin burned—he could feel everyone’s gaze on him.

“Hey, hyung,” he replied, and only Jisung picked up the slightest tremor under the smooth words.

“You know each other?” Minhyun interrupted, bewilderment lacing his voice. Jonghyun fought the urge not to leave. Thankfully, he didn’t have to answer.

“Yeah,” Jisung said cheerfully. Too cheerfully, Jonghyun noted, yet Minhyun seemed satisfied. “We’re childhood friends, actually.”

“I didn’t know you were in Seoul,” Jonghyun managed.

“I could say the same about you,” he said, before smiling at the others graciously. “Mind if we step out for a bit? To catch up and all.”

Sewoon and Minhyun nodded, Seonho too absorbed in his phone to notice. Jaehwan caught Jonghyun’s gaze pointedly, and the warning was clear. Jisung glanced at Jonghyun before entering another room, and he reluctantly followed him.

They walked in silence down the hallway, and then down another hallway, until they found themselves at spacious bedroom. Jisung crossed it and opened a door to the balcony, beckoning him outside.

The floor was glass, and the guard rails were thin metal twisted around more glass. Jonghyun stepped onto the narrow platform with no little amount of trepidation, and Jisung bit back a smile. “When did you become afraid of heights?”

“When did you buy a penthouse that costs more than your entire college tuition?” Jonghyun retorted, comforted at how easy it was to talk to him.

“It’s not mine,” Jisung said. “It’s Sungwoon’s.”

“Sungwoon’s here too?” Jonghyun said, trying in vain to keep the fear out of his voice.

“Sungwoon and Daniel,” Jisung said. “You remember them. Guanlin, Jinyoung, and Daehwi might come too.”

Jonghyun leaned against the edge, feeling faint, and then realized where he was and swallowed the nausea in his throat. Jisung laughed, but it held no malice. “They’re not going to hold it against you, you know. The kids don’t know much of what happened, and Sungwoon and I have stuck with you too long for this to unsettle us.”

“How do you know Minhyun?” Jonghyun asked, deftly avoiding the previous topic.

Jisung shrugged. “We went to the same bar in Busan. Sometimes we hung out. You know, normal friend stuff.”

Jonghyun scowled at him and he laughed again hitting his arm playfully. “Come on, you take things too seriously.”

Jonghyun watched him carefully. “You mean, you’re not going to ask me anything?”

“Do you want me to?” Jisung said, turning to look at the darkening sky before returning his gaze to him. “Are you happy right now?”

“Yes,” Jonghyun said, and the ease with which he said it, the fluidity, startled him. His stomach tied into knots, his head throbbed with the desire to run and yet to stay.

“Oh,” Jisung said, unable to hide the surprise from his voice. “I’m happy for you. Really.” Jonghyun nodded, still taken aback by himself. Jisung said, “One last question. Why are you here?”

“Ah,” Jonghyun said. “That.”

“That?”

“I’m Minhyun’s fake boyfriend,” he explained, avoiding Jisung’s gaze even as he burst into laughter.

“Kim Jonghyun, fake boyfriend,” Jisung managed between bouts. “If I’d heard that one in college, I’d have had a heart attack.”

Jonghyun scowled. “I’m good at boyfriending. I’m an excellent fake boyfriend, I’ll have you know. Anyway, I’m only here because Dongho’s here and he thinks we’re dating even though everyone else knows we’re not.”

“So,” Jisung asked, wiping his eyes. “How do you two really know each other?”

Jonghyun hesitated to answer, fiddling with his belt loop. “I’m… his boss.”

Jisung’s jaw dropped. Jonghyun thought he was being unnecessary. “Really? Seriously? His _boss?”_

“I hate you,” Jonghyun said firmly, cheeks reddening. “Stop thinking so loudly.”

“Sorry, I know how much that bothers you,” Jisung said sarcastically and they both started laughing. It left a light feeling in Jonghyun’s stomach, one that almost made him feel whole. When Jisung next spoke, though, there was no trace of humor. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Jonghyun asked, though he knew exactly what Jisung was referring to.

Jisung gave him a knowing look. “Don’t play dumb with me. Minhyun’s a nice guy. He’s sweet. Don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t promise things,” Jonghyun said, and the words left a sickly sweet taste in his mouth. Jisung glared and opened his mouth to retort, but Jonghyun cut him off. “I won’t. I’m not like that anymore.”

“So you aren’t,” Jisung said simply. “I wouldn’t know.”

Jonghyun flinched at the accusation in his words, but couldn’t find it in him to answer. The screen door slid open and he jumped slightly before turning. Jaehwan poked his head out, and, ignoring Jonghyun entirely, turned to Jisung. “Sungwoon’s looking for you.”

Jisung shot him one last meaningful look and slipped past Jaehwan back into the house. Jonghyun went to follow him, but Jaehwan put up a hand. “Not so fast, buddy. Is there anything I should know about?”

“Nope,” he said coolly, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. “Nothing at all.”

Jaehwan’s lips twisted. “I hope for your own sake that you’re telling the truth.”

Jonghyun moved past him without replying, ignoring the throbbing in his temples. As if controlled by an outside force, he wandered through the apartment aimlessly, finally locating a bathroom. He locked himself inside, and then finally allowed himself to breathe. The man in front of him seemed foreign—he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like himself. He exhaled slowly, swearing under his breath. Why was he still here? This was the longest he’d ever spent in one place since college, and yet he couldn’t tell what kept him here.

A façade—that was all he was. He’d convinced himself he was someone new, and lived that person’s life until it felt as familiar to him as the back of his own hands. What a joke. He didn’t even know who he was.

_You do know,_ a voice at the back of his mind whispered, soft and insidious. _You just hate him._ Jonghyun narrowed his eyes at his reflection, self-hatred rising in his throat like bile. Then he remembered where he was, who he was supposed to be. He splashed water on his face one too many times, skin stinging with the impact. He couldn’t do this here. It would have to wait.

Jonghyun wiped his face and quietly shut the door behind him, returning to the living room. He took a seat beside Minhyun. He put a hand on Jonghyun’s knee and squeezed, an action meant to be reassuring. Jonghyun refused to meet his eyes, gluing his gaze to the drama rerun Seongwoo had put on.

“Are you hungry?” Minhyun said. When Jonghyun didn’t respond, he brushed his fingers against the edge of his jaw, turning him to face him. He leaned forward, voice dry and low when he added, “Remember why you’re here, babe.”

Jonghyun’s heart ceased to beat for a fraction of a second, and then a facetious smile curled his lips. “I wouldn’t mind dinner.”

Minhyun smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be back.”

The second he was out of sight, Jonghyun leaned back against the sofa. His heart was wound painfully tight, and he was so engrossed in his own confusion that he didn’t notice a second person sit down beside him. “Hey, hyung.”

“Daniel-ah,” Jonghyun replied, surprised. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too!” Daniel said, smiling. “You didn’t come to the wedding, though. Sungwoon hyung was hoping you might show up.”

Jonghyun swallowed hard, keeping his face pleasant. “I’m sorry. Never saw the invitation.”

“That’s exactly what I thought!” Daniel grinned. “But you know. Jisung hyung and Sungwoon hyung always think the worst of things.”

_They have good reason,_ Jonghyun didn’t say. Instead, he straightened up and said, “So how are things going? How did you guys get such an expensive place, in Seoul of all places?”

Daniel shrugged. “My inheritance mostly. I used to resent it, but hyung and I get to spend our lives doing what we love and we don’t need to worry too much about money, so I guess it turned out for the best.”

“It’s funny,” Jonghyun said. “None of us ended up doing what we set out to do.”

“That’s life, I guess,” Daniel replied thoughtfully. “All we can hope for is that we’re happy after everything’s said and done.”

It was a hopelessly naïve statement, optimistic in a way that sent a pang through Jonghyun’s chest. To find happiness—what a pipe dream of a pursuit. Before he could reply, Minhyun reappeared, paper plates and plastic red cups in his hands.  Daniel got up and waved a goodbye to Jonghyun. Minhyun handed him one of each—a slice of pizza and beer. He could feel his gaze on him as he went to take a bite.

“You’re a mysterious man,” Minhyun finally said before he took a sip of his own fruit punch.

“Not really,” Jonghyun answered, turning to meet his eyes. “Just careful.” Minhyun regarded him for a few seconds more before speaking again.

“Not many men our age are so careful for little reason,” he pointed out. “But I’m patient.”

“You’ve told me that before,” Jonghyun said. “And I told you it was unlikely that your patience would prove to be fruitful.”

“I think you’re bluffing,” Minhyun said. “I’m a good judge of character, you know.”

He wasn’t, Jonghyun knew. If he were, he’d have left already. Instead of answering, he downed his cup of beer, looking up to find Jisung staring at him from across the room. He looked once at the cup then back at Jonghyun and cocked his head. Jonghyun shook his head simply, and turned back to Minhyun, who’d forgotten about him entirely and was playing Angry Birds on his phone.

A knock came at the door, then another, then a series of sounds that Jonghyun assumed were meant to be subsequent knocks. Minhyun looked up. “The kids are here.”

Jisung raised his eyebrows but went to open the door. A cacophony of voices followed him back into the living room.

“I… have arrived,” a young man in his early twenties announced.

“That’s so fucking extra, Jihoon,” the other man said before clearing his throat. “I, too, have arrived.”

“Great, you’ve arrived,” Seongwoo said, crunching another candy in his mouth before turning his attention back to the Nightmare Before Christmas.

“Fuck you, Ong,” Jihoon said.

“That’s Ong _hyung_ to you,” Seongwoo retorted.

Jaehwan laughed. “It’s not a party without the kids.”

Jihoon ignored him. “Hey, Minhyun hyung, I have a question.”

“Shoot,” Minhyun said, taking another sip of punch.

“So I was talking to Donghan and I told him I was going to a Halloween party,” Jihoon started. “And Donghan asked me for the details and I was like ‘okay, that’s fine’ because one more person can’t hurt. But then Samuel said he’d never been to a Korean Halloween party before and I told him they were just like every other Halloween party but he insisted and—“

“Jihoon?” Minhyun said.

“Yeah, hyung?”

“What did you do?”

Jihoon bit his lip. “It’s okay that I invited some friends, right?”

Seongwoo started laughing. Minhyun raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by _some?”_

“Just…”

“Just?” Sungwoon finally cut in, voice high with desperation.

“Just my contacts’ list,” Jihoon said.

“How many people are in your contacts’ list, Jihoon-ah?” Minhyun asked calmly, hand tightening on the arm of the sofa.

Jihoon coughed a number. The boy next to him was grinning. Jihoon glared at him. “I hate you, Woojin.”

“How many people?” Minhyun repeated, a warning edging into his voice.

“Six hundred,” Jihoon started, pausing at Sungwoon’s small noise of agony. “Six hundred twenty three.”

“This house,” Sungwoon said, with the sorrow of someone grieving, “Does not _fit_ six hundred twenty three people, Jihoon-ssi.”

Jihoon threw his hands up and turned to Woojin.  “You told me this was a good idea! This is all your fault!”

“I did _not_ say it was a good idea,” Woojin said. “I said, ‘that’s a very interesting idea. I think I would find it humorous. Go ahead.’”

“Doesn’t fucking matter!” Jihoon screeched. “You’re a… a…”

“An enabler,” Sewoon suggested.

Jihoon nodded emphatically. “Yeah! You’re an enabler!”

A knock came at the door, and then a muffled, “Yo, Park! We brought booze!”

Sungwoon made a low noise of despair. “You’re banned, Park Jihoon.”

“Banned?” Jihoon replied uneasily. “Banned from _what?”_

_“Banned from causing problems,”_ Sungwoon managed.

“Yeah,” Jihoon said sarcastically, “Like I consciously cause problems.”

“You kind of do,” Woojin cut in, and Jihoon glared at him.

“You’re such a shitty best friend,” he huffed. “You’re fired.”

“I’m fired?” Woojin repeated, picking up a discarded cup of punch and sloshing it gently before taking a sip.

“Yes!” Jihoon shouted. “You’re fired from being my best friend. I’m now taking best friend applications. Anyone interested?”

Jinyoung halfheartedly threw up his hand and Daehwi hit his shoulder. _“Hyung!”_

“You sent me thirty two links to scrap booking websites last night,” Jinyoung said. “And a video of you crying over a puppy at four am. Expect the divorce papers in the mail.”

“Can you guys shut up?” Seongwoo called.

              “What?” Dongho said. “No, keep going. Jeonghan thinks this is fucking hilarious.”

              Seongwoo snorted. “Daniel’s jam gave me a stomach ache so unless you enjoy the color of my vomit—which I wouldn’t blame you for, nothing I produce is anything less than gorgeous—keep it down.”

“Stop insulting my husband’s jam!” Sungwoon roared.

Jonghyun heaved a sigh and got up, taking Minhyun’s cup of punch and downing it before placing it back on the table. It tasted like artificial cherry flavoring and blossoms. “Seongwoo, stop insulting people’s jams. Sungwoon, take a couple deep breaths and get a cup of water. Jihoon, next time you want to invite some friends, try to take a minute to shortlist them. Woojin, stop being an enabler. Jinyoung, if you respond to Daehwi’s first link, maybe he won’t send thirty-one more. Daehwi, don’t send him thirty-one more links even if he doesn’t respond to the first one. Jaehwan, stop laughing so much. It’s unnerving. Sewoon and Daniel, you’re doing fantastic. Guanlin, stop making heart eyes at Seonho. Seonho, stop making heart eyes at my boyfriend. Jisung, we’re out of alcohol, so this isn’t a complete disaster. Dongho, if you tell Jeonghan about this, you’re telling the entire city about this. I have a job to maintain—keep it to yourself if you value your life.”

“What about me?” Minhyun said, after he had paused for a second.

Jonghyun glanced down. “Buy better punch next time.”

With that, he walked out of the room, not waiting to see their faces. Embarrassment and pride mingled in the back of his throat. He could hear Seongwoo wolf whistle. “That was kind of hot.”

“Get your dirty claws off my boyfriend,” Minhyun said crossly. It was kind of cute.

“For your information,” Seongwoo said. “My hands are beautiful. The woman at the salon said so herself.”

Another knock came at the door, and Jonghyun remembered that there was a possible six hundred twenty three people standing behind it. Against his will, he opened it.

People spilled inside, quite literally. One of them tapped Jonghyun on the shoulder. His hair was dyed a garish shade of lavender. “Where do I put the soju?”

“Um,” Jonghyun said. “Follow me.”

“Follow him!” The guy yelled to a group of alcohol toting party goers behind him. Jonghyun felt that this was too much responsibility, but led the way to the booze table.

“Hey,” Jonghyun said to the lavender haired boy, who was now pouring himself a very tall cup of soju. “There’s been a bit of miscommunication here, so we’d all appreciate it if you guys tried to, you know…”

“I don’t quite know,” the boy said.

“Don’t… break anything…” Jonghyun said slowly.

The boy laughed. “I’m not sure I can speak for everyone here, but I’m not interested in vandalism.”

One down, six hundred twenty two to go. Not that that was his responsibility—he’d let Jihoon sort that out. He emptied another can of beer into his cup and returned to the couch, but Minhyun had left. He glanced around, but the living room was thick with bodies and someone had turned on a stereo blaring wordless thrumming EDM.

His heart was tangled in his chest—it was some mixture of déjà vu and jamais vu, and the only thing that steadied his rattling breaths was the thin taste of beer. After the first cup, time seemed to blur by. Near the beginning, there was some sense of awkward awareness in the air—people casually drinking, some looking at their phones. After the first half an hour or so, things went downhill.

Jonghyun blinked once. The crowd was nothing but an undulating mass, everyone pressed to each other as if separation was lethal. Not to say that there weren’t stragglers in the corner doing quite horrid things to Sungwoon’s crystals. In the middle of the room, a small space had formed. Daehwi was attempting to play beer pong against Woojin and losing terribly. A simple chant formed, then spun out of control. The word ‘chug’ echoed in his head painfully.

_Why the fuck are you here?_

Jonghyun moved to get up from the couch, shocked at how unsteady his grip was. He attributed it to his anxiety, not the alcohol. Taking one last look at the rather hopeless game, he forced himself to the kitchen. It was nearly deserted, but a mess. Empty bottles were scattered across the counter top and the floor was slightly sticky. Seongwoo had his elbow propped on the refrigerator door and his other hand tipping a dangerously full cup of an unidentified beverage into his mouth. He stopped himself when he saw Jonghyun, a smirk curving his lips. “You.”

“Me,” Jonghyun agreed wearily, contemplating whether to pour himself another cup of soju or just to down the entire bottle.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone interested in Minhyun,” he said, when Jonghyun didn’t say anything more.

“And why not?” Jonghyun said, stopping the bottle on its trip to his mouth. He regarded Seongwoo over the top of the green glass, his features blurred in the dim light.

“You’re very subdued,” he replied after swallowing half his cup. “A misguiding kind of quietness—you seem dangerous.” Jonghyun didn’t humor that with a response, running his hand through his hair before sloshing the bottle once more. Seongwoo continued regardless, gaze scrutinizing and accusatory. “Minhyun’s the opposite. He’s like thin layers of bright paint over a dark canvas.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jonghyun cut in, voice betraying nothing but the slightest hint of artificial boredom. He closed his eyes as he finished off the bottle, the sting in his throat masking the tears pricking the back of his eyes.

“He’s been hurt one too many times,” Seongwoo said, voice tinged with regret and anger. “Don’t add to that number.”

“I’m not interested in breaking his heart,” Jonghyun said coldly and Seongwoo laughed—it was a harsh sound.

“Nobody ever sets out to break a heart, Jonghyun-ssi,” he replied. “But if that’s what you end up doing, I swear, you’ll never know peace again.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Jonghyun said tersely, hand clenched around the neck of the now empty bottle. He impulsively grabbed another bottle, chest expanding with heat as he turned to leave the kitchen. Seongwoo’s gaze burned through his back.

He wandered aimlessly, his last breath stuck in his throat. _Run,_ his mind screamed. But he didn’t know where to go. He stopped in a hallway, throat tight, and glanced down. The sight of the bottle repulsed him—he longed to throw it against the wall, but his remnants of self control kept his fingers locked around the neck.

He left it against the side of a bedroom door.

His body felt ephemeral, as if he would simply burn to a crisp if he didn’t stop himself. Jonghyun forced himself to find a bathroom, legs unsteady with the effects of the soju beginning to show. He flung open door after door, rational thinking withering. With every breath he heaved, his anger dissipated into self loathing.

Finally, at the end of a long hallway, he found a brightly lit bathroom. He locked himself inside, splashed water on his face. It stung his hands and he welcomed the pain.

_Why are you here?_

Retching sounds caught his attention, and he glanced over. A familiar figure was hunched over a toilet, dark hair plastered to his face with sweat. Something clicked in Jonghyun’s head, a realization that he couldn’t understand. A feeling akin to relief, yet far more painful, replaced the fire in his veins. He bent down. “Minhyun-ah?”

The figure shook himself out and glanced up, eyes squinted against the bright light. His voice was slurred almost beyond recognition. “Jonghyun?”

Jonghyun smiled, and it was a fool’s smile. There was nothing humorous nor gentle about this situation. Yet he fell to his knees and pushed the hair out of Minhyun’s face carefully. “Drank too much?”

Minhyun nodded, giggling slightly. “I think that someone spiked the punch.”

“That’s wrong of them.”

“It is,” he agreed crossly before his lips pinched in a nauseous frown and he returned to the toilet bowl. Jonghyun ripped off a piece of toilet paper and wiped his mouth when he came up again. Minhyun’s eyes watched his fingers silently, trailing up his arm and then finally locking onto his eyes.

His eyes were devoid of judgment, yet Jonghyun’s stomach dropped with fear. He recalled what he had called him back then, at the fireworks show—his punishment. It seemed so long ago now, with Minhyun’s flushed cheeks just inches from his own. Minhyun’s mouth quirked in a smile and he slurred a quiet, “You’re cute.”

“I…” Jonghyun managed, flustered. “I’m what?”

He scrunched his nose, leaning forward. The air around them hung with the odor of alcohol, vomit, and blossoms. “Cute. You’re cute.”

Jonghyun’s words caught in the back of his throat, and he found himself paralyzed as Minhyun moved closer. Just millimeters before him, Minhyun’s gaze dropped to Jonghyun’s lips and he bit his lip unconsciously.

Then Minhyun turned quickly, rising to his knees to empty the last of his stomach into the toilet bowl. Jonghyun folded a piece of paper waiting, ignoring the tremors in his hands. Minhyun finally fell back down, relief flickering in his eyes. Jonghyun cleaned him up and then rose to his feet, offering a hand to Minhyun. He took it, a lopsided smile curving his lips.

Jonghyun handed him a toothbrush. Minhyun glanced at it, then back at him, and he waggled it. “Brush your teeth.”

“Why?” he whined. “I’m tired.”

Jonghyun crossed his arms. “Brush your teeth or I’m leaving.”

Minhyun reluctantly accepted the toothbrush. Jonghyun stood awkwardly against the wall, trying to busy himself with examining the golden shower curtains and expensive framed painting before finally watching the circular movements of Minhyun’s hands. An indeterminate amount of time passed—he knew it was under two minutes, yet it felt like an hour. Minhyun took about thirty seconds to fit the toothbrush back into the cup, hands shaky. Jonghyun took one hand out of his pocket and leaned forward, steadying his hand. Minhyun froze for a split second, and then lowered the brush into the cup.

Minhyun made a face at him. “Whose toothbrush was that?”

Jonghyun bit back a laugh—he hadn’t thought to figure that out. “I’m not sure. Probably a spare, there’s like four bathrooms and only Sungwoon and Daniel to use them.”

Minhyun found this explanation satisfactory, bobbing his head in agreement. He cocked his head in thoughtfulness, before his face split with a smile that nearly blinded Jonghyun. He leaned forward, and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth.

Jonghyun’s mind was a disorganized cacophony of whale noises and half finished thoughts. _He kissed me,_ he thought dazedly. Because he was the epitome of originality, he said, “You kissed me.”

Minhyun giggled and put a finger to his mouth. “Shh. Our little secret. Thanks  for like…” he trailed off for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Oh yeah. Thanks for doing this.”

“Doing what?” Jonghyun asked, partly out of modesty, partly out of genuine curiosity.

“You know,” he slurred. “Being cute. And taking care of me. And that stuff.”

“You’re welcome,” Jonghyun managed, rubbing the edge of his lip in delayed astonishment. “For that stuff.”

Minhyun smiled again, then slumped against his arms. Jonghyun looked down, still for a few seconds, before he pulled him up. He was too heavy to carry through the apartment, but he was still conscious enough to hold himself up if supported by Jonghyun.

They made their way down the hallway like this, the muffled sounds of the party too far away to be of any consequence. Something in Jonghyun wanted to stay like this forever, but he pushed on until he found Jisung curled up with a bottle of beer watching a rerun of a drama.

Jisung looked up, a silent question in his voice. Jonghyun’s voice was hoarse with disuse when he quietly said, “I need to take him home. I’ll see you later, hyung.”

“Okay,” he whispered back. “Take care of yourself, Jonghyun-ah.”

Jonghyun’s throat constricted at the simple words, and he managed a hand of farewell before he continued on to the door. On the elevator ride down, Minhyun wound his arms around him, face pressed to his neck. “’s cold.”

Jonghyun tied the collar of his thin cape around him tighter and rubbed his hands together. “Just a bit more.” He pulled out his phone, dialing a now familiar number. “Hey, Seoul Cabs?”

He made sure to request Aron, not comfortable with anyone else seeing Minhyun’s drunk, and considerably less reserved, self. After a few minutes of loitering on the curb, interspersed with Minhyun’s whiny complaints, a taxi pulled up. Jonghyun helped Minhyun inside before shutting the door behind him.

“He’s drunk?” Aron’s voice crackled through the intercom.

Jonghyun managed a dry laugh. “Yeah. Turn off the music, if you would.”

It was a silent ride to Minhyun’s apartment, the only sound Minhyun’s upset murmurings. Jonghyun couldn’t discern proper words, only a general ache within them. He pulled him closer and watched the buildings pass them by.

When they arrived, Jonghyun tugged Minhyun gently out of the backseat, handing Aron a wad of bills. The trip up the stairs was taxing, Minhyun stumbling to a stop every few steps. Jonghyun considered attempting to carry him, but knew it wouldn’t end well, instead opting to encourage him quietly. Near the fifth story, Jonghyun lost patience and heaved him over his shoulder. At first, Minhyun broke out into a giggling fit. But quickly after Jonghyun reached the top floor, he started squirming uncomfortably.

“Let me down,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Let go of me.”

It wasn’t a statement directed to Jonghyun, he could tell that much. Regardless, he quickly pulled him down. He crumpled to the floor, and Jonghyun knelt beside him. His pupils were dilated, gaze unfocused. He whispered, “Minhyun-ah.”

He didn’t seem to hear him, breaths quickening. Jonghyun cupped his face in his hands and said, “Look at me, Minhyun-ah.”

Minhyun, with no little amount of effort, forced himself to look at him. He was shaking violently, either from the cold or some other force. Jonghyun rubbed his thumbs gently on his cheeks. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he repeated back to him, sounding unsure at best. “I’m okay.”

Jonghyun took his hand in his and pulled him to his feet. It took them a bit longer to make it to his door, and when they did, Minhyun seemed exhausted. He was still shaking slightly from the cold, hands gripping Jonghyun’s arm almost painfully. Jonghyun reached behind the cactus on the windowsill and pulled out the spare key before opening the door.

Inside, it was warm, yet dead. The fading scent of cleaner blew through the air on whisper of a breeze. A neon clock on the oven told Jonghyun it was nearing three am. Minhyun detached himself from his arm and burrowed himself into the couch, tightening himself into a ball. Jonghyun huffed slightly; humor and frustration mingling in the soft exhale. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled, but Minhyun had dug his fingers into the lumpy padding of the sofa.

“Minhyun-ah,” he tried. “Please.”

Minhyun made an unintelligible noise and burrowed further in. It was obvious he wasn’t moving. Jonghyun heaved a sigh and got a couple blankets from his bedroom. They smelled faintly of blossoms and detergent. He wrapped Minhyun in them, ignoring his murmured protests.

Then he went to the bathroom, to wash up. His eyes were red rimmed and dark, a far cry from the angry, lost soul he’d been in Sungwoon’s apartment only hours ago.

_Why am I here?_

The question was really, _Why haven’t I left?_ And the answer to that was simple.

After cleaning up, he returned to the living room with a glass of water. Minhyun had fallen fast asleep, face turned to the wall. Jonghyun hesitated—some shriveled hope in his heart wanted to capture this moment, wanted him to lie down and fall asleep right there. Seongwoo’s voice came back to him, then.

_Nobody ever sets out to break a heart._

Jonghyun locked the door before he left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu @ hwanguit to yell at me abt minhyun's nwy teaser!!!! also my cc is curiouscat.me/daybreakmv :D leave comments and kudos for my eternal love


	6. while my soul's burning like a cigarette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> filler, but not really filler bc major subplot points! karaoke and a day at the beach p much. tw for some trauma and pretty sexual content. title from dua lipa's last dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the sexual stuff starts at 'Jonghyun watched him move back' and ends at ' Minhyun watched him unwrap it' though the kissing starts at 'Minhyun leaned forward'!! another note i have a lot of big tests coming up so there might not be another update bc the next update is ALSO really big!! good news is that next update is where we start progressing into rising action :D

        They never spoke about that night.

        The next day, Minhyun had given him his clothes back—they were still tinted a suspicious light pink color, but nothing too obvious. And their routine had continued.

        He’d gone up to him once, though. They were taking a break during a meeting, and Minhyun was attempting to get water out of the leaking jug. He looked up, and waved an apologetic hand before trying to finishing his endeavor and finally giving up.

        “What do you need?” Minhyun had asked, wiping his hands on his slacks.

        “Seongwoo,” Jonghyun had said, and had then realized that was not enough information. “What is he to you?”

        Minhyun had raised his eyebrows. “Why do you want to know? Did the hot comment throw you off? He’s just a flirt.”

        “Yeah, I was just wondering,” Jonghyun had said. “He said something to me. Are you two dating?”

        Minhyun had made a face. “Labels are weird. We dated officially for a while, but I’m not really… into him and it was mutual. But it’s great sex, so we still hook up.” He’d laughed at his expression. “Too much information in the office? Sorry.”

        Jonghyun had brushed it off and gone back to the meeting. It sat wrong with him somehow—but he’d never been one to face his own emotions.

        Jonghyun considered his responsibilities while walking up to his apartment. The office was in a good place—the interns had settled into a rare routine, and they had managed to catch up on all the work they were behind on, just in time for the end of year company wide festivities. Jonghyun didn’t think he could take another year of Seokhoon-ssi telling him his branch output was far below average.

        Minki had called him the night before. Jonghyun hadn’t answered, so he’d texted him a couple times before resorting to email. Apparently, the Christmas year this year was to be hosted by Jonghyun’s branch. Jonghyun hadn’t answered immediately, taking a few minutes before sending a brief acknowledgement.

        Jonghyun wasn’t good with parties, formal or informal, so he’d handed off the responsibility to Joshua, who beamed at him when he asked him. Jonghyun felt that that was a sign that he would do a good job, and anyway, he didn’t trust anyone else in the office to do it.  

        It was a still a while off, though—there was still nearly a month and a half to procrastinate worrying about it. For the time being, all Jonghyun had to do was make sure Jihoon didn’t lose any more of their customers.

        He pulled his key ring out of his back pocket, and it snagged on a loose thread. He swore and wiggled it out before opening the door. The sound of running water suddenly reached his ears and he froze. Thoughts, memories, emotions flooded his mind almost painfully.

        “Jonghyun?” a voice called—Jisung. Relief and unease mingled in Jonghyun’s stomach.

        “How did you get the key to my house?” Jonghyun asked, placing his stuff on the stool he used as a table and taking a tentative seat on the couch.

        “You’ve always kept your spare in the same place,” Jisung said, wiping his hands on his jeans as he walked into the living room.

        Jonghyun frowned. “Stop taking advantage of my predictability.”

        “Isn’t that my job as your best friend?” Jisung pointed out before wagging his finger disappointedly. “Anyway, there’s a more pressing issue here.”

        “And that’s what?”

        “Your _fridge,”_ Jisung said, spreading his hands overdramatically. “How are you _alive?”_

        “By forces that dislike me greatly,” Jonghyun replied, switching on the television.

        Jisung huffed. “Come on. Get up. We’re going grocery shopping.”

        Jonghyun looked up at him through hooded eyes. “I’m _tired.”_

        “No excuses,” Jisung said firmly, attempting to pull Jonghyun off the couch. Jonghyun wrapped his hands around the arms and buried himself into the cushion. After a few minutes of this, Jisung let go and stepped back, heaving a sigh. “ _Please._ Your refrigerator is empty, Jonghyun. Either we go out or I’m coming over every single night with three home cooked meals for you to keep there.”

        Jonghyun considered this, before sighing. Jisung brightened up and opened his mouth to speak, but Jonghyun put up a finger to signal him to be quiet until he finished sighing. Finally, he said, “Okay.”

        Jisung grinned. “Leave in twenty minutes?”

        Jonghyun made a noise akin to agreement before sinking back into the couch. Jisung retreated back in the kitchen, probably washing the pile of dishes he had in the sink. After a few minutes he called, “Change, dumbass!”

        Jonghyun roused himself and padded into his bedroom. He winced when he realized Jisung had probably seen it—it was nothing more than a couple half opened cardboard boxes and a mattress on a flimsy metal frame. A department store laptop desk was discarded on the floor.

        After Jonghyun finished changing into more casual attire, which consisted of an oversized hoodie of unknown origin and jeans, he returned to the living room to find Jisung peering at the news. He looked back at him and raised his eyebrows. “How was work?”

        Jonghyun blinked, surprised. “Work was… fine. Why do you ask?”

        Jisung laughed. “Why do you always startle when people care about you?”

        Jonghyun declined to answer, taking a seat beside him and fixing his gaze on the news. A recently up and coming idol group had been hurt in a fire while shooting for their next music video. They fell into a lull, and after a few minutes, he asked with no little amount of effort, “How was work for you?”

        “Do you even know what my job is?” Jisung asked, laughing.

        “Aren’t you a guidance counselor?” Jonghyun replied, squinting.

        Jisung beamed. “You remember.”

        “Just because I have no concept of time passing doesn’t mean I can’t remember my best friend’s major,” he answered grumpily.

        “You called me your best friend!”

        “You called yourself my best friend!”

        Jisung smiled. “It sounds better when you say it.”

        Jonghyun folded his arms. “Isn’t there a grocery store we should be getting to?”

        Jisung got up and nearly skipped to the door, pulling on his jacket. Jonghyun grudgingly followed behind him. It took them an hour to get to the ‘best grocery store in Seoul’. On the way there, Jisung regaled him with tales of his kids.

        “So this kid came up to me,” he said, “And he pulls out this book. The book has an opening cut into it. There’s weed in the opening. You know what he asks me?”

        “What does he ask you?” Jonghyun asked, balanced somewhere between consciousness and sleep. Jisung tended him to relax him like that.

        “He asks me if I want some! I’m a thirty four year old man! I don’t use weed!”

        “Anymore,” Jonghyun added.

        Jisung scowled at him. “That was once.”

        “Whatever you say, hyung,” he said, spreading his hands in a placating manner.

        Jisung smiled at him. “I missed this.”

        Jonghyun blew a breath. It puffed in the air. “So did I, hyung.”

        It was near eight when they arrived at the store, so Jonghyun slumped himself against the cart and pushed it around aimlessly as Jisung attempted to steer him in the right direction.

        “Can I get in the cart?” Jonghyun asked.

        “You’re twenty eight, Jonghyun-ah,” Jisung said. Jonghyun looked up at him with puppy eyes and he sighed. “Fine.”

        Problems arose in the cereal aisle. The entire trip had been pretty unproductive, since Jisung asking what he wanted to eat lead to absolutely no progress and Jisung just throwing organic whole-grain bullshit in the cart beside him. Jonghyun had spent the time reading the ingredients list and zoning out since he had no idea what half the things were.

             Jonghyun looked up for once and peered at the brands before pointing at a familiar box. “I want that one.”

        Jisung’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That’s just chocolate, sugar, and corn.”

        “My favorite food groups,” Jonghyun replied before curling back into the cart.

        Jisung folded his arms and scowled at him before launching into a lecture on the nutritional repercussions of eating cocoa puffs for any meals, much less all meals. “…And _that’s_ why you should think harder about what you put into your body, young man!”

        “I’m twenty eight,” he said.

        “If you act like a kid, I’ll treat you like a kid!” Jisung retorted.

        “Just get him the damn cocoa puffs, hyung,” a familiar voice cut in. Sungwoon and Daniel were in the middle of their own shopping. Daniel pouted.

        “Hyung… he’s in the cart. Why can’t I be in the cart.”

        “You can’t be in the cart,” Sungwoon answered firmly before turning back to Jisung. “Why is he in the cart?”

        “Honestly? I don’t know,” he said, hand hovering over a whole grain raisin cereal. Jonghyun made a whining noise.

        “I don’t like raisins!”

        Jisung arched his eyebrows. “Then why do you drink so much wine?”

        Jonghyun waved his hands dramatically. “The alcohol makes up for it!”

        Jisung and Sungwoon exchanged a look, and Jisung pulled the cocoa puffs off the shelf. Jonghyun pumped a fist in victory. Daniel frowned.

        “I want cocoa puffs.”

        Sungwoon glared at Jisung. “This is your fault.”

        “ _My_ fault?” Jisung said disbelievingly.

        Jonghyun and Daniel began to chant, “Cocoa puffs! Cocoa puffs! Cocoa puffs!”

        Jisung rubbed his temples. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

        Twenty minutes later, they were at the cash register, or rather, Jisung and Sungwoon were. Daniel had persuaded the latter to let him ride in the cart, and now they were chatting from the safety of the shopping carts. Jonghyun felt that this was the most security he’d ever experienced.

        His phone buzzed and he put a hand up to indicate it was important.

 **minhyunie:** hey are u free rn

 **jonghyun:** what is the definition of freedom

 **minhyunie:** …ok. not going to ask about that. like are u free To Do smth. w me. and a couple ppl. hangin out. havin a good ol time

 **jonghyun:** i am up to have a good ol time. lemme ask jisung n the rest if that’s ok

 **minhyunie:** woah ur out w ppl good job

 **jonghyun:** whats that supposed to mean!!! im a functioning adult

 **minhyunie:** yeah sure whatever floats ur boat

 **jonghyun:** isn’t it floats ur yacht

 **minhyunie:** im PRETTY SURE it’s floats ur boat

 **jonghyun:** i bet u thirty dollars it’s floats ur yacht

 **minhyunie:** deal :D

        Jonghyun put his phone back in his pocket and turned to Daniel. “I have two questions.”

        “Shoot.”

        “One, is it floats your boat or floats your yacht?”

        Daniel raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “It’s definitely not floats your yacht.”

        “Fuck,” Jonghyun said, with little emotion. “Okay, next question. Are you and Sungwoon free tonight?”

        “Hell yeah,” Daniel said. “I am not single and still ready to mingle.”

        Jonghyun pulled out his phone again.

 **jonghyun:** guess who’s thirty dollars richer

 **minhyunie:** me

 **jonghyun:** yay ur right im proud of u

 **minhyunie:** u just lost money stop being so nice i hate u !!!!

 **jonghyun:** u want me to b less nice ????

 **minhyunie:** yes!!!!! exactly!!!!!!!!!

 **jonghyu** n: but im not that nice

 _[_ **_minhyunie_ ** _has BLOCKED your number]_

 **jonghyun:** jaehwan-ah tell minhyun to unblock me

 **jaehwanie:** why did he block u

 **jonghyun** : i said i wasn’t nice

 **jaehwanie:** hyung…..

 **jonghyun:** what?????

 _[new message from_ **_minhyunie_ ** _]_

 **minhyunie:** so can u come

 **jonghyun:** yes, but come to what

 **minhyunie:** drum roll…. the karaoke bar

 **jonghyun:** love getting drunk and losing my voice

        **minhyunie:** !!!!! yes it’s going to be a great night !!!! here’s the address!!!!!!!!

        **minhyunie:** _[sent a picture]_

        Jisung finished putting the bags in the cart and gestured for him to climb out. Jonghyun put his phone and did so grudgingly. “Hey, hyung?”

        Jisung glanced back at him. “What?”

        “Can we go to the karaoke bar on…” Jonghyun attempted to make out the address in the dark before simply showing him the phone.

        Jisung raised his eyebrows. “Minhyun, huh.”

        Jonghyun narrowed his eyes at him. “Stop thinking so _loudly._ You have abnormally loud thoughts, hyung.”

        “Sure, Jonghyun-ah,” he replied, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “Sungwoon! Karaoke?”

        Sungwoon nodded emphatically. “I love annihilating pop music with my beautiful voice.”

        When they got to the bar, it was even later, nearing ten thirty. It was beginning to get crowded, but they were still pretty early. A bored man at the desk wrote down their names.

        “Oh, you’re in the room with that guy,” he said knowingly.

        Jonghyun shifted uncomfortably. “What guy?”

        The clerk, a short but seemingly powerful guy with the nametag ‘Noh Taehyun’, rolled his eyes. “He keeps making a wailing noise whenever they give the microphone to him. Other rooms are phoning in complaints.”

        The ‘guy’ turned out to be Seongwoo, who was in the midst of his wailing when they walked in. Minhyun looked up and caught Jonghyun’s gaze and smiled. Jonghyun’s cheeks pinked—he wasn’t in the correct mindset to deal with Hwang Minhyun right now.

        He ended up taking a seat between Minhyun and the edge of the couch, which adjoined with another carrying Jisung and Sungwoon and Daniel. The rest of the party consisted of Seongwoo, Jaehwan, who were enthusiastically flipping through the channels looking for songs, and Sewoon, who was surreptitiously watching a cat video on his phone.

        They ended up picking a slow ballad. Sewoon scrunched his nose. “I want to sing that.”

        Jaehwan folded his arms. “You sing for a living. Give Seongwoo hyung a chance.”

        “You sing for a living too. You sing with me. Give me your microphone.”

        “No,” he pouted. Sewoon frowned, and he handed it over.

        Jaehwan returned to sit beside Minhyun, wrapping his arms around Minhyun’s chest and pressing his face into his back. “Hhnfgh.”

        “What?” Minhyun asked, adjusting himself to hear him better.

        “I’m sleepy,” Jaehwan said, and Minhyun laughed.

        “You’re going to nap before Sewoon, you and I do our customary song of the night? Where’s your honor?”

        “Song of the night?” Jonghyun asked, abruptly tuning back in.

        “Oh,” Minhyun said, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You’ve never heard me sing before, right?”

        “No…” Jonghyun answered slowly, brow furrowing at Jaehwan’s ensuing snicker. “What does _that_ mean?”

        The ballad finished, and Seongwoo handed Minhyun his microphone. Sewoon scrolled down the screen until he found another song, one Jonghyun had never heard.

        “How do you not know this song?” Minhyun asked. “Do you live under a rock?”

        Jonghyun declined to answer that, and simply scowled and rearranged himself on the sofa. Something about the way the blue light of the lights hit his face was unwinding him painfully. He looked almost ethereal, and there was the  beginnings of a smile on his face. Then he remembered Seongwoo just a couple feet away, and willed himself to breathe.

        He was brought back to the present by Sewoon’s voice starting the song. It was low and melodic, and Jonghyun blinked to keep himself from falling asleep. Then came Jaehwan’s voice, brassy in a way that shook him to near alertness. Jisung and Sungwoon were watching appreciatively, and Daniel was secretly recording a video.

        Minhyun sang his first note, and the world disappeared around Jonghyun.

        Some rational instinct told him that he was still in public, that he had to keep his face smooth. But at this point, he couldn’t discern much of what was going on, much less his jumbled thoughts. He bit his lip to keep his composure, yet it was too late somehow.

        He was a good singer, he could understand that much. Yet that didn’t convey it properly. His voice was smooth; it was honey, and the drip of stars down a dark sky. It was lilting, catching at the end of phrases in a way that constricted Jonghyun’s chest.

        Minhyun’s voice, in short, was like him.

        It was beautiful.

        “Did you like it?” Minhyun asked. Jonghyun roused himself from his thoughts—the song had ended, and he hadn’t even noticed.

        “Uh,” Jonghyun said dumbly, “Yeah. A lot.”

        Minhyun smiled softly. Jonghyun hadn’t previously known that smiles could be perceived as soft. “Oh.”

        Jonghyun cleared his throat in an attempt to distract Minhyun from the blush on his cheeks. But Minhyun had taken the remote from Sewoon and was going through the channels.

        “Hyung,” he said to Jisung, “Do you and Sungwoon hyung mind if I sing one more song?”

        Sungwoon and Jisung exchanged another look, before snickering and saying, “Go ahead.”

        Jonghyun shifted so that he was closer to them. He whispered viciously, “I hate you two.”

        “Now, is that how you speak to your hyungs?” Sungwoon replied smugly.

        “Jonghyun,” Minhyun called, and he immediately returned to his spot. “I hope you like this one! It’s one of my favorites. You know it, right?”

        The television screen read out Galaxy – Bolbbalgan4 and Jonghyun nodded an acknowledgement before swallowing hard. It was one of his favorite songs, but Minhyun didn’t need to know that.

        If the first song was hard on Jonghyun, this one was almost painful. Sometimes, when Minhyun sang parts, he’d close his eyes and smile—it reminded Jonghyun of watching him sleep. During the rap parts, he’d laugh and attempt some butchered mess of the rap, laughing between each line. Jonghyun’s heart skipped a couple beats, but he simply burrowed himself deeper into the sofa.

_Oh._

        Jonghyun bit the inside of his cheek and watched Minhyun laugh as the song finished off. He handed the microphone to Sungwoon and Jisung, who promptly chose a new popular boy group song, which consisted of nothing more than an empty beat and some fancy vocals. Sungwoon belted it, and Jonghyun had to admit that it sounded better than the original. To be fair, though, he wasn’t really paying attention, though.

        Minhyun was watching them, the lights of the screen dancing in his eyes. He seemed caught in a laugh, caught in the breath one took before they confessed.

        “Jonghyun-ah,” Jisung said. Jonghyun blinked, and turned around to find him starting to get up. “It’s nearly one. Everyone’s leaving.”

        Minhyun looked away from his phone and cocked his head before smiling at Jonghyun. “Thanks for coming. It was nice seeing all of you again.”

        He’d addressed it to all four of them, but he kept his eyes on Jonghyun. His eyes glittered in the dark—there was some subtle message, some signal that Jonghyun understood, yet couldn’t consciously comprehend.

        “You too,” he replied, and he was breathless for some reason.

        Outside, the buildings were steeped in the dark of the early morning. It felt familiar, all four of them simply walking like this, simply together. Sungwoon and Daniel had gotten drunk at one point and were cooing at each other. Jisung watched them fondly before slowing to meet Jonghyun’s pace.

        “Did you have fun?” he asked, grinning.

        Jonghyun couldn’t bring himself to frown, the edges of his mouth quirking as he watched the stars. “You know the answer to that.”

        They stood in silence for a bit, and then Jisung said, “I really hope this works out for you.”

        Jonghyun laughed, but it was humorless, just the slightest bit of hope leaking into it. “Me too, hyung. Me too.”

–

        The weekend after the karaoke night, Minhyun found himself running up against a wall. A metaphorical wall, but a wall nonetheless.

 **minhyun:** wdym u can’t come to the movies!!!! this was ur idea!!!!!!!

 **jaehwanie:** sorry hyung it’s an emergency

 **jaehwanie:** and u didn’t even seem into it???? why r u so upset

 **minhyun:** i was into it!!!! i just pretended not to be into it!!! isn’t that how our friendship works :-(

 **jaehwanie:** well sorry :// besides just hang out w jonghyun hyung ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **minhyun:** get that unnatural emoticon out of my messages kim jaehwan

 **jaehwanie:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) u cant ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) control me hyung ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **minhyun:** im leaving

        Minhyun finished his cup of tea, checking the clock, which read nine o’clock. It wasn’t too late in the day. Against his better will, he switched to his conversation with Jonghyun.

 **minhyun:** hey r u awake

        Jonghyun answered a couple minutes later, during which Minhyun had perused the news and his recorded programs. He was a couple episodes behind on the idol florist drama—he hadn’t had Jonghyun over recently.

 **jonghyunie:** yeah what’s up

 **minhyun:** where do u live

 **jonghyunie:** what the fuck

 **minhyun:** let’s hang out jaehwan ditched me  >:(

 **jonghyunie:** so im ur backup

        **minhyun:** that’s a bit harsh

 **minhyun:** so where do u live

 **jonghyunie:** …i’d rather not say, where r we meeting up tho

 **minhyun:** SIGH kim jonghyun ill call a taxi in front of my place in twenty minutes i have an undisclosed location in my mind

 **jonghyunie:** sounds vague im on my way

        The taxi got there faster than Jonghyun, which was to be expected. Minhyun wiggled himself inside and handed a wad of bills to Aron, rattling off the location.

        Aron raised his eyebrows. “That is _way_ out of my range. I haven’t even been within a hundred miles of that place.”

        “That’s why I tipped you so much,” Minhyun pointed out slyly, trying to hide his uncertainty behind the screen that separated them. “Please, hyung!”

        “You’re lucky I like you two so much,” Aron finally said, turning back around and turning up the radio. Minhyun decided to tolerate the cacophonous pop for today.

        Jonghyun knocked on the window, a little bit breathless. Minhyun opened the door to let him inside, biting his lip to keep from widening his eyes when he nearly fell inside.

        “Sorry I’m late,” he managed, the edges of his words caught in his throat. His hair was slightly tousled, strands curling over his eyes messily. Minhyun resisted the urge to push them back and instead busied himself with tightening his seatbelt.

        “It’s fine,” Minhyun replied, voice slightly strained. It was undetectable in the squeal of tires as the car lurched forward, but Jonghyun still glanced at him, cheeks pinked from the wind, eyes alight with curiosity.

        As Aron turned onto the freeway, Minhyun allowed himself a couple breaths, and the freedom to look back. It wasn’t anything tangible that had constricted his heart a couple seconds too long. There was just something… alive about him. Jonghyun was dependable, he was mature, and sweet, and helpful. He was the running water in a narrow stream.

        But right now, he seemed different. Something volatile yet not wholly dangerous flickered in his eyes, burning his edges into something foreign.

        It— _he—_ was beautiful.

        It was obvious that Jonghyun hadn’t been out that morning, nor had he seen the weather. He was dressed in a thin white t-shirt and jeans slit at the knee for no apparent reason other than modern fashion trends. The edge of the shirt had a thread unwound and Jonghyun rubbed his thumb over it pensively. Without thinking, Minhyun put his hand on his and stilled it.

        Jonghyun looked up, a silent question in his dark eyes. Minhyun quietly said, “I told you not to do that.”

        His eyes crinkled in amusement and he pulled his hand away from the thread, leaving Minhyun’s on the crook of his waist. A second too late, he pulled his back too, pushing a piece of hair behind his ear before watching the scenery going by as though it would force the reddening from his cheeks.

        “So, where are we going?” Jonghyun spoke up again after some time. Minhyun had almost fallen asleep, and the question roused him painfully, a seemingly semi permanent mark on his cheek from the cold window.

        He blinked. “It’s a surprise.”

        Jonghyun narrowed his eyes. “So you’re not saying. I’m _completely_ in the dark.”

        “That’s pretty much the basis of a surprise, yeah,” Minhyun replied, yawning widely as he laid his head back. A slight throb was building behind his left temple and he winced, rubbing it slightly.

        Jonghyun made a hmph sound and knocked on the barrier. A few seconds later, Aron called, “What?”

        Minhyun scowled. “Don’t you dare.”

        Jonghyun laughed at his expression, and Minhyun’s lips quirked up against his will. “Where are we going?”

        Aron didn’t answer for a few seconds. “Didn’t Minhyun say it was a surprise?”

        Minhyun grinned smugly. “I love you, Aron hyung!”

        Jonghyun faked an angry expression for a few seconds before smiling and stretching his arms. The edge of a tattoo was barely visible under the hem of his shirt. Minhyun cocked his head. “What does your tattoo say?”

        “Which one?” Jonghyun asked, and then seemed to regret the decision.

        Minhyun raised his eyebrows. “Both of them?”

        He reluctantly sighed and pulled up his shirt slightly, revealing a patch of once tanned skin and a date, written in numerals. October tenth, 2011. Before Minhyun could make any sense of it, he pulled his shirt back down and pulled up the sleeve on the right side of his shirt. A simple butterfly design was etched over the inside of his bicep.

        “Do you have any?” Jonghyun asked.

        “What?” Minhyun answered, caught off guard and he laughed at his expression.

        “Tattoos. Do you have any?”

        Minhyun shifted in the seat. “Jaehwan dared me to get one. It’s small, though.”

        Jonghyun raised his eyebrows. “Smaller than mine?”

        Minhyun laughed and pulled the edge of his shirt aside to reveal an infinity sign smaller than a fingernail on the lower side of his collarbone. “I’d say it’s pretty small.”

        Jonghyun touched it, and Minhyun willed himself to stay still. His fingers were warm against the cold skin—he bit his lip. He pulled back, his lips curving into a smile. “Now who’s the scaredy cat?”

        Minhyun huffed. “Pain is a perfectly normal thing to be afraid of. I’m fine with not getting off on severe injuries, thank you very much.”

        “Whatever you say,” he replied, the light dancing off his eyes. He seemed to glitter in the chiaroscuro of the car—it was dazzling and discomfiting.

        Minhyun’s phone beeped. Ten minutes until they got there.

        Outside, the landscape was already beginning to change, the open expanse of the freeway twisting into a thinner road hugging the side of a cliff. Nature pressed against them from both sides, liberating in concept but a crushing reality.

        “Where _is_ Jaehwan?” Jonghyun wondered aloud.

        Minhyun wrinkled his nose in distaste. “He had an _emergency.”_

        Jonghyun laughed. “You don’t believe him?”

        “Oh, I believe him alright,” Minhyun sniffed. “I’m just not sure we have the same ideas of what constitutes an emergency. Once, he ran out of Cheerios and told me he was dying. Anyway, it must’ve been kind of important, since Sewoon was out with him.”

        “And so you came to me,” Jonghyun finished, humor and something heavier lacing his voice.

        “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

        “I’m pretty sure forcing me to accompany you to an unknown, apparently deserted, location isn’t common.”

        Minhyun waved his hands. “Details are unimportant. You were free, weren’t you?”

        Jonghyun scowled. “You have such a low view of my social life.”

        “So I’m right,” he replied smugly, grinning when Jonghyun didn’t refute him.

        The car pulled to a stop beside a viewing platform, probably set up by the state a couple decades before and promptly forgotten about. A single wooden sign advertised the location in peeling white paint: Beach.

        “Beach?” Jonghyun asked. “Where’s the first part?”

        Minhyun squinted. “I think it got worn away.”

        Aron cleared his throat and they glanced back at him. He was watching them almost sternly. “It might storm soon, so there’s a motel less than a mile north of here. This isn’t a popular tourist spot—no one’s going to help you get back home.”

        “How ominous, Aron hyung,” Minhyun said, waggling his fingers for effect. “I’m sure we can take care of ourselves.”

        “Of course you can, Mr. ‘Jonghyun-why-is-the-world-is-flowers-and-puppies’,” he replied, eyes narrowed in amusement as Minhyun spluttered. “All I’m saying is, be careful.”

        “We will,” Jonghyun spoke up, taking Minhyun’s shoulder and squeezing it. It was meant to be an encouraging gesture, he was sure, but there was something latent about it that unnerved him, that unwound him.

        Aron nodded once, and rolled up the window before driving away. In his wake, only the faint smell of gasoline and petrichor remained. Minhyun looked up—the sky was dotted with puffy white clouds that spoke of coming rain. Jonghyun inhaled sharply, and Minhyun’s eyes darted over, first caught by the sharp angles of his face and then by his expression as he turned to face him.

        “We shouldn’t be here, Minhyun,” he said, and his voice was careful, neutral at worst.

        “Why not?” Minhyun asked, turning to watch the dark blue waves crash endlessly on the shore. “It’s closer to Gangreung than it is to Hwacheon. A trip back home without really being back home.”

        Jonghyun didn’t answer, simply turning so that he was also watching the ocean. The air hung with the smell of salt and something bitter, almost acrid. Minhyun heaved a sigh and started walking until he found a small set of stairs that lowered him to the beach. He pulled off his shoes, and wiggled his feet, biting back a giggle at the sensation of the cold sand against his skin. Jonghyun coughed a laugh from above, slowly moving down to meet him. He leaned against the cold stone and watched him, affection quirking his lips into a smile.

        Minhyun called, “Come on!”

        Jonghyun thought on this for a few seconds, and then shook his head. Minhyun folded his arms and called again, “If you don’t come, I’ll have to bring you!”

        Jonghyun raised his eyebrows and offered a thin response, tossed away in the wind.  Minhyun cupped a hand to his ear, and he repeated, “I’d like to see you try!”

        Minhyun grinned, and Jonghyun blinked, unease marring the features of his face. After a few seconds of uncoordinated stumbling through the sand, Minhyun returned to the wall, and took Jonghyun’s hand in his. At first, he meant to tug it forward, but his eyes sent a chill down his back.

        A fire in one’s eyes, frightening only in its sheer potential energy. It wasn’t necessarily foreign to him as much as it was out of place. Minhyun held his wrist loosely in his fingers, unable to do anything but watch him. Jonghyun watched him back, and the corner of his lip twitched up in something he could only interpret as a challenge.

        _What are you waiting for?_

Minhyun took his hand, and without looking back, ran forward. Sand kicked up in their wake, the spray pelleted them still, and yet all he could hear was two laughs, mingling. Minhyun allowed himself to look back, then, and his breath caught in his throat.

        Jonghyun wasn’t looking at him—his eyes were somewhere between the horizon and the deep of the sea, unfocused without being lost. He looked alive, yet frighteningly impermanent, a splinter of wood doused in gasoline and far too close to a lit match.

        Damp sand and the remnants of the tide washed around Minhyun’s feet and he startled, looking down. He watched the water swirl around his toes, watched the sand crumple in the face of a stronger power. It was sobering, the ephemerality of things. Wet hands traced his jaw gently, then pulled his face up roughly.

        “Are we stopping here?” he asked, voice quiet yet intense. It was a loaded question, he knew, and yet he couldn’t discern all of the meanings.

        Minhyun shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. After a few seconds, he glanced down again, taking his hand in his own. His fingers were white with cold, dusted with sand and salt. Instead of turning, he backed into the water, keeping his eyes on Jonghyun’s even as water pooled around their knees.

        They were close, yet far. An eternity existed in the space between them, and Minhyun wasn’t sure how to cross it.

        He didn’t have to—a wave knocked him off balance, and he fell into the water, first crumpling to his knees before his head disappeared under the waves. His grip must’ve been strong, since a couple seconds later, another body joined him. He assumed it was Jonghyun, since he was too afraid to open his eyes in the salt.

        Minhyun pulled himself up to the surface, knees sprawled on the ocean floor as he sat in the shallows. A spluttering sound, and then Jonghyun’s head broke the surface. His hair was plastered to his skin, and it reminded Minhyun of that night, a bit more than a month ago.

        But he didn’t look afraid now—he looked almost free. Water trickled down his face as he heaved a slow breath. He examined the open sea, the sand, the tree speckled road that seemed so far away, before his eyes finally ended on Minhyun’s. Minhyun’s lips parted, but he didn’t know what to say. The silence was almost charged, and he was suffocating.

        And then, Jonghyun started laughing.

        Minhyun blinked, surprised, and almost fell back over again as another wave knocked into him. Jonghyun reached forward, taking his shoulders in his hands and pulling him up. Their faces were unspeakably close, quick breaths stifled in the open air.

        Jonghyun let go of him as he balanced himself, and began to run his fingers through the muddied water. “Are you okay?”

        “Do I look like I’m okay?” Minhyun grumbled, first thinking to brush himself off before realizing he was sitting in the sea.

        “Good point,” Jonghyun replied, voice carefully doctored as to not betray any discernible emotion. It was a thorough act, and Minhyun wondered, not for the first time, how he’d gotten to be so good at it.

        Minhyun sighed, and cocked his head. “What time is it?”

        Jonghyun rolled his shoulders. “Around noon, probably. Why do you ask?”

        Minhyun grinned and cupped his face in the closest thing to cute that he could emulate. “Minhyunie is hungry.”

        Jonghyun nearly choked on his own saliva. “What the fuck was what?”

        Minhyun pouted. “I’ll have you know, this aegyo is powerful. I’ve gained many favors out of it.”

        “Of course,” Jonghyun replied. “Favors borne out of people’s fear.”

        Minhyun shrugged. “A favor is a favor, you know. Where do you want to eat? Aron hyung didn’t give us much information but the motel. Do you think they’ll have food?”

        Jonghyun didn’t brighten much at the prospect of food and lazily dragged his hands again through the water. “I’d expect you, _my host,_ to have done some research before kidnapping me.”

        “I didn’t kidnap you,” Minhyun retorted. “You came of your own will. You were _late!”_

“That’s unimportant,” Jonghyun said, waving a hand dismissively.  “Important things include the diner a couple minutes from the motel. We should get going.”

        Minhyun didn’t question his knowledge, though perhaps he should’ve. Jonghyun pulled himself up and shook the water off of him, in an almost puppy-like manner before offering a hand to Minhyun who rose in a similar manner. It was a long, quiet walk to the motel and adjoining diner, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.

        Jonghyun never really felt uncomfortable—silences were easily misconstrued, and could quickly become tense, which Minhyun disliked. Sometimes, rarely, he got tired of talking, and it was annoying to be locked into the following cold silence. But Jonghyun seemed to enjoy silence—there was nothing awkward about his casual gait, or the remnant of a smile on his face.

        It was natural, this silence— _peaceful_ —and this twisted Minhyun’s gut painfully. Or maybe that was just the hunger.

        The motel was fairly run down, and Aron’s words echoed in Minhyun’s head. _This isn’t a popular tourist spot._ Regardless, it was passable—Minhyun had lived in worse. The matching building was a stretch of the word diner, a cramped restaurant with a couple booths and a barely visible iron door leading to a kitchen.

        Time passed quicker than he’d thought it would’ve, considering they were eating reheated ramen in the middle of nowhere. A few minutes into the meal, Jonghyun asked about his singing, and if there was one thing Minhyun couldn’t shut up about, it was his voice.

        It didn’t seem to annoy him though, the countless stories about failed karaoke plans and late night TVXQ covers. Something warm fluttered in Minhyun’s stomach, warm yet stubborn, like a weed in the sunlight.

        Jonghyun stretched his arms out behind his head as they returned to the beach, sand leaking into their shoes. As the diner and motel disappeared behind them, he asked, “What do we do now?”

        Minhyun checked his watch. “It’s a quarter to three. What do people usually do at the beach?”

        “Wouldn’t you know?” Jonghyun asked, nodding to his wallpaper.

        Minhyun laughed. “Like we had time to spend entire days at the beach. This is a rare occasion, and even then it was only for an hour, _maybe.”_

“We could sunbathe,” Jonghyun mused.

        “There’s no sun,” Minhyun pointed out, glancing up at the slowly darkening sky. “And there’s no towels to lie on.”

        “Towels are overrated,” Jonghyun replied, and his voice was smooth, almost airy in the manner of people who are continuing a conversation for the sake of it. He opened his eyes once, blinked at the expanse of water in front of him, and his gaze was alien. In the next breath, he shook himself out and crouched on the sand before lying down.

        Minhyun watched him, frozen for a few seconds out of mingled bewilderment and amusement, before he bent down and took a spot next to him. Their bodies were painfully close, and Minhyun could feel the slight warmth of Jonghyun’s skin clash with the cold wind pelting him. After a few seconds, he whispered, “Don’t you sunbathe shirtless?”

        He could feel Jonghyun’s smile even without turning to see it. “You could just say you want to see me shirtless, Minhyun-ah.”

        Minhyun hit his arm, miscalculating greatly and whacking his upper chest as well. Jonghyun made a strangled noise, but he just huffed. “What did I say about vulgarity?”

        Jonghyun’s hummed in reply, and then jostled him slightly as he pulled the thin white shirt off his chest. A resounding thump and a spray of sand indicated that he’d fallen back beside him. Minhyun willed himself to keep his eyes on the sky, and flinched when Jonghyun nudged him. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

        “Me?” Minhyun spluttered. _“Me?”_

Jonghyun laughed. “Yeah, you. Or are you just admiring the view?”

        Minhyun’s ears burned red, and he barely managed a broken, “No… I guess I’ll… do it…” before his rational thinking imploded. He pulled himself to a sitting position before peeling off his sweater and then his shirt underneath. The wind blew once, and there was a sense of loneliness in the air that pierced Minhyun.

        “Stop preening,” Jonghyun said from the sand, and the unease dissipated. Minhyun huffed a sigh and dropped himself back down, enjoying Jonghyun’s following groan as sand covered him in a thin sheet. “You’re an ass.”

        “Is that any way to speak to your dear, respected employee?” Minhyun teased.

        Jonghyun rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you offered me _any_ kind of respect?”

        Minhyun furrowed his brow. “I called you Mr. Boss Man last week.”

        “That doesn’t fucking count,” Jonghyun said. “The entire board laughed at me. Nayoung recorded it. She sends it to me at 3 am.”

        Minhyun coughed a laugh, and Jonghyun joined in. Jonghyun’s laugh had always been funny, and this amused Minhyun to no end, and even when he thought he was done laughing, the incessant ‘heh heh heh’ forced tears down his cheeks. After a few minutes, Jonghyun calmed down and put a hand on Minhyun’s chest to do the same. “Are you okay?”

        Minhyun’s breath caught in the middle of a laugh, which was a terrible time for it to hitch. He pressed his lips together swallowed, and managed a hoarse, “Yeah.”

        They sat there for a bit longer, encouraged by the silence. In the distance, waves crashed on the shore, each one harder than the last. Clouds were aggregating, covering the sky first in a thin film of vapor and then in a thick layer. The sun was barely visible—streaks of light shone down on the water. It looked like starlight.

        The beach had darkened considerably, dim light casting the water and sand in an unsaturated hue. Minhyun pulled himself up again, and the world tumbled before him. He put a hand out beside him to steady himself, coming upon Jonghyun’s knee. A quiet grunt sounded behind him, and then Jonghyun brushed the sand off and came to his feet, taking his hand and nearly dragging him up too. They pulled on their clothes, backs to each other. Jonghyun wandered around, one hand clasped on his wrist—an opposite of the scene from before.

        Sand and water crusted Minhyun’s feet, but he didn’t look up. Sea spray wet the edge of his jaw, yet he kept his eyes on Jonghyun’s back. Jonghyun, though, wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were unfocused, he knew, even though his back was turned to him. His edges were worn in the wind—he seemed untethered and prone to fly away. But when he glanced back, when they were a couple feet into the water, soaked until mid calf, his eyes were on fire. Déjà vu disoriented him for a second, and the sensory overload was almost too much. Jonghyun tightened his grip on his hand, taking the other in his hand, and suddenly, he was grounded.

        Water dripped off of Jonghyun’s face. He glanced up, and Minhyun watched the way the droplets traced his fine bones. Jonghyun cocked his head. “It’s raining.”

        A fat droplet dripped off Minhyun’s nose, and he glanced up, caught off guard. “So it is.”

        “We should get inside,” he said, lazily stretching his arms around and watching how rain fell on his skin. He looked back at him, and his eyes were dark and intense, yet unreadable.

        “We should,” Minhyun breathed, and said nothing more than that, stilling his arms in their movement. Jonghyun raised his eyebrows at this, then tilted his head back and laughed. His hands dropped by his sides, and Minhyun was pulled closer. His laughter died out after a few seconds, and he went quiet at their sudden lack of proximity.

        The rain had begun to come down harder, and Minhyun couldn’t hear anything over the constant splashing around them. Despite that, Jonghyun whispered something unintelligible.

        “What?” Minhyun called, though they were only centimeters apart.

        Jonghyun shook his head, something sharp curving his lips. Fear and recklessness mingled in his gaze, yet unlike before, instead of watching the sea, he kept his eyes on Minhyun.

        Minhyun brought his hands up, stopping at chest level. His mind was only half functioning, and something about this seemed dangerous—irreversible. But he knew, things were rarely irreversible. Not if you ended them early enough.

        So, based on this—the thin logic and the adrenaline burning through his veins and the rain dripping down his cheeks like cold tears—he cupped Jonghyun’s face gently. Jonghyun watched his hands, the slight tremors moving them, before his gaze wandered up his neck and up to his eyes.

        His eyes carried a challenge, a promise, an ultimatum. The depths of them were an abyss at best, yet Minhyun had never seen an abyss that burned so bright.

        Minhyun leaned forward, tentatively, slowly at first, but his lips crashed into Jonghyun’s. It was messy, it was imperfect in every sense of the word. He tasted of saltwater and faintly of peppermint. Minhyun pulled back, chest tight, but he didn’t get far before Jonghyun wrapped his hands in the collar of his shirt and pulled him back.

        This second kiss was slower, yet there was some sense of urgency in it. Their foreheads knocked together, Minhyun’s cheeks burned with the warmth and the cold rain, and his hands wandered before locking around his neck.

        There was no telling where the kiss began or ended, only the press of skin to skin and the rain falling around them. Jonghyun’s arms loosened on his shirt, falling to grip his hips hard. Minhyun’s breath stuttered in his throat, but he didn’t dare move. He pulled him closer and Minhyun unlaced his hands, draping them over his back loosely.

        Jonghyun smiled against his lips, fingering the hem of Minhyun’s shirt. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering closed for a second too long. “We’re soaked.”

        “We are,” he murmured, rational thinking withering more with every second passing. “And?”

        Jonghyun wrinkled his nose, posing his second suggestion as he played with the band of Minhyun’s jeans. “We should go inside, yeah?”

        Minhyun glared at him, hissing a barely audible, “Yeah.”

        His fingers were cold as he pressed against Minhyun’s bare skin. “I can’t hear you.”

        “Yeah,” Minhyun grinded out, fingers digging past the cloth into Jonghyun’s back. “We should go inside.”

        Jonghyun smirked and pulled his fingers up, and they half fell, half traipsed out of the rapidly increasing shallows. The motel was faintly visible in the distance and they reluctantly pulled their shoes on again.

        The walk was quiet—but different from earlier. There was something charged about it, something dangerous and foreign and _capable._ It wore a bright red warning sign, and fine print that spoke of endless pain.

        Minhyun was tired of reading fine print.

        The sky was darkening by the time they reached the motel. Minhyun’s skin was cool to the touch, yet he felt on fire. A couple hundred feet before they entered, Jonghyun took his hand in his again. It felt like a tether, a thin thread to something he’d never known before. But perhaps the unknown was better than oblivion.

        An old lady was reading an old novel at the desk. She looked up at them and raised her eyebrows once at their disheveled experience before holding out her hand after nodding to the sign. Jonghyun muttered the rates under his breath before pulling out his wallet. It was soaked at best, but he extracted a couple bills and blew on them before handing them to her. She looked unimpressed but handed them a key nonetheless.

        Jonghyun seemed accustomed to the place, despite the fact that they’d only just entered it, disappearing down a dark hallway and leaving Minhyun to follow him. He finally stopped in front of a door labeled 112, taking a few seconds to unlock it before roughly shoving it open.

        It was a small, cramped room, but what they’d expected. A single bed and a tiny nightstand sat beside a window. In the far corner, there was a card with a sign that labeled it as the bathroom key.

        Minhyun followed him in, closing the door behind him. He turned around to Jonghyun pinning his wrists above him, ignoring the way he thumped back against the wood. He stayed like that for a second, simply watching them. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes, and for a fraction of a second, his grip loosened, leaving Minhyun’s right hand against the door.

        Minhyun gripped his hand tight, before slowly pulling it back up and returning his gaze to Jonghyun. “What are you waiting for?”

        “What am I—What do you mean what am I waiting for?” Jonghyun breathed. “This is—This isn’t—“

        Minhyun leaned forward, pressing their lips together chastely before biting Jonghyun’s lip. “At least finish what you start.”

        Jonghyun watched him move back, contemplative for a moment before sliding his hand up and pinning his wrist again. Noses touching, Jonghyun tilted his head at him thoughtfully. Minhyun’s mouth quirked up, and Jonghyun kissed him again.

        The little space between them decreased until hips were pressed to hips. The door behind Minhyun creaked slightly and he winced at the sound before Jonghyun distracted him again. Jonghyun’s movements were slow, almost painfully slow. He dragged his hands down Minhyun’s arms before locking around his neck and pulling him slowly backward. Minhyun looked up as the lamp swayed from the wind outside but Jonghyun nipped the edge of his lip in response.

        Minhyun wasn’t sure whether they fell onto the bed or whether it was slower than that. He knew that Jonghyun was above him, pinning his wrists to the mattress to keep himself up. He knew that the room was warmer, or maybe that was just Jonghyun’s breath as he planted kisses along his jawline and down to his neck. A moan bubbled in Minhyun’s throat and Jonghyun stilled suddenly.

        The silence was crushing, almost frighteningly so, and Minhyun squirmed uncomfortably, confronted with Jonghyun’s dark gaze and the crackle of thunder and lightning outside the window.

        Jonghyun whispered something unintelligible, and Minhyun’s chest tightened at it. He pursed his lips and repeated it, slightly louder. “Take off your shirt.”

        Minhyun’s mind stuttered to a stop for a few seconds, during which Jonghyun moved back to sit on his knees, still watching him carefully, almost curiously. Minhyun ached to unravel that deliberate façade, to take him apart.

        He pulled himself up, falling against the headboard once before steadying himself with the edge of the bed and pulling off his sweater and thin shirt again. He folded them before dropping them on the floor, allowing his eyes to wander back to Jonghyun’s again.

        His eyes were still unreadable, but he moved forward so that they were close again, too close for decency but just close enough for now. He ran a hand down Minhyun’s chest and his eyes fluttered closed for a beat. Then his hand stilled on his navel and Jonghyun pulled his shirt off before stretching his arms out. Minhyun thought to keep from ogling him, but at this point there really was no further down they could go.

        Minhyun brought up a hand from the sheets and fingered the curve of his collarbones, dancing his fingers gently over where the groove of his neck met his chin. Jonghyun put his hand over his and then pulled it down, an almost coy smile flickering on his lips.

        The room was quiet—Minhyun thought that the whole world must’ve been quiet, outside of the storm outside. It was an unknown, he knew. It was as dangerous as oblivion itself.

        Yet he couldn’t keep himself away.

        Jonghyun kissed him once, pensively, and then again. There was something addicting about the warmth of it, about the coiling heat of it. He placed open mouth kisses on Minhyun’s jaw before continuing down his neck and over his collarbones. He paid special attention to his tattoo, kissing it gently before sucking on the skin. A whimper escaped Minhyun’s throat and Jonghyun smiled against his chest. He nipped slightly at the skin under the hollow of the bone.

        “Do you like that?” he murmured, and Minhyun wasn’t sure why he expected a human response. After Minhyun didn’t reply, he frowned and trailed down further, rubbing his thumbs on his nipples without looking up. Minhyun’s breath caught almost painfully, and a strangled noise left his mouth.

        Jonghyun glanced up, expression almost bored. “I asked you a question.”

        “I—“ Minhyun managed, shocked at how hoarse his voice was.

        “You?” Jonghyun prompted before beginning to press open mouthed kisses to the line of his hips.

        “Y-yeah,” Minhyun forced out, after a second moan. “I d-do. D-don’t stop.”

        “Don’t stop?” Jonghyun asked again, and Minhyun nodded, head arched back. A noise alerted him and he flinched, struggling to look down. Jonghyun shh-ed him without looking up, continuing to undo his belt carefully. After he finished, he threw them to the side. There was something coarse, yet refined about his actions. They were controlled, but feral in nature.

        The cold air of the room stung Minhyun’s legs, and frankly, the remnants of his pride. Before his cheeks could burn with embarrassment, Jonghyun bent down and spread his legs to either side. Satisfied, he pushed himself off the bed, ignoring the Minhyun’s faint whine of confusion. Minhyun struggled to see what he was looking for, but he returned quickly, a small package in his hands.

        Despite the haze in his head, Minhyun found the energy to roll his eyes. “They have those here?”

        “Of course,” Jonghyun said matter of factly. “What good motel doesn’t have condoms? Even if there weren’t any here, the old lady slid me some earlier.”

        Minhyun watched him unwrap it, eyes fixed on his hands. Suddenly his hands stilled and he looked up to find his eyes fixed on his. Jonghyun tilted his head. “Is this really okay?”

        Minhyun smiled. “Love and lust are different things.”

        “Equally dangerous,” Jonghyun answered, pulling it out of the package.

        “It’s a one time thing,” Minhyun pointed out, and Jonghyun’s hands slowed in their movement for a second before he continued. After he finished, he looked back down at Minhyun.

        “Once is enough.”

\--

        When Minhyun awoke the next morning, Jonghyun had already cleaned everything up. There was a warm indentation in the sheets next to him, and he passed a hand over it wistfully. He pushed himself up on his elbows and struggled to recount the night before, but only fragments appeared. His cheeks burned. Interesting fragments.

        The clock blared a simple 9:45. Minhyun swore, long and complicated. The door clicked closed as Jonghyun reentered the room and raised his eyebrows at him. He was dressed in his clothes from the previous day, but his eyes were bright. “Anything wrong?”

        “Jaehwan,” Minhyun muttered under his breath, ignoring Jonghyun’s sharp laugh. He looked up again. “Is my phone alive?”

        Jonghyun fished it out from the drawer on the night stand and handed it to him. Minhyun swallowed hard before switching it on. Message after message after message—it was almost nauseating watching them appear.

        The top one read: _Hyung, wherever you are, come back._

Minhyun’s chest constricted, and he bit his lip to keep his composure. Jonghyun dangled a cup of tea in front of him and he accepted it gratefully, pulling himself up and taking a long sip before opening the chat.

 **minhyun:** i’m ok!!

 **jaehwanie:** oh my GOD

 **jaehwanie:** HYUNG...

        **minhyun:** yes it is i

 **jaehwanie:** DON’T U DARE

 **jaehwanie:** r u rly ok :/

        Minhyun took another sip, and offered the room a cursory glance. Light was streaming through one window, and the havoc the storm had wreaked was barely visible. Jonghyun was scrolling aimlessly through his phone while tidying things up. Finally, he typed out one last message.

**minhyun:** yeah. i’m ok. i promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu @ hwanguit on twitter and /daybreakmv on curious cat!! i really appreciate everything all of you send me <333 leave kudos + comments too for my love and adoration :)


	7. even if it’s a fantasy that disappears when i open my eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> company christmas party! title from red velvet's kingdom come. we're finally meeting minki! there's a LOT of pov switches in this one it's kinda annoying but they're p important!! this is officially the end of the fluff arc if u can rly call anything leading up to this fluff. i hope u guys are ready for the fun stuff :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK IM SO SORRY FOR THIS SUPER SUPER LONG BREAK i was absolutely SWAMPED w school work and i also tried to work on another fic which didnt work out MOSTLY bc of my schoolwork... anyway now im on thanksgiving break so im gna try to get asn8 this week too!!!! im rly excited for where the story goes next i hope you all like it!!

            “Hey.”

            Minhyun looked over his shoulder, half out of the car already. Jonghyun’s expression was unreadable but when he caught his gaze, he offered a small smile. “Have a nice weekend.”

            There was something charged about that statement, as mundane as it was, but Minhyun ignored it and smiled back. “You too.”

            “Get rid of that damn cold, too!” Aron called from the front seat, and as if on cue, Minhyun sneezed loudly. Jonghyun winced. Aron sniffed. “What were you two doing in the rain anyway?”

            “I’ll see you later, hyung!” Minhyun called quickly and shut the door behind him.

            It was a clear Sunday morning, or as clear a morning one could get in Seoul. Minhyun’s lips quirked up slightly, not at the hellstorm that he’d have to deal with in his apartment, but simply at the lightness in his heart. It wasn’t often that he felt as unburdened as he did now.

            He knew, logically, that he’d have to deal with the events of last night, of the repercussions and the minutiae of how it’d affect his daily life. But not now.

            Minhyun lingered in front of the front door, unwilling to open it. After a few minutes, he brought up his hand and knocked once. Not even seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a haggard Jaehwan and a weary Sewoon following close behind.

            Jaehwan’s eyes were stormy at best, and Minhyun shut the door behind him quickly before hanging up his coat and taking a tentative seat on the couch.

            “So?” he demanded, waving his hands wildly. Sewoon put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but Jaehwan only shook it off.

            “My phone died…” Minhyun said weakly, but Jaehwan wagged his finger in his face.

            “ _My phone died,”_ he snapped. “Your phone hasn’t died on you in years! You carry around a portable charger and portable charger for your portable charger!” Minhyun said nothing at that, and Jaehwan sighed and took a cross-legged seat on the faded carpet. “You know, I called your boss. At the gas station. Even though you didn’t have a shift last night.” Minhyun opened his mouth to interrupt, but Jaehwan put up a hand. “I called Seongwoo too.” He began to count off on his fingers. “And Woojin, and Jihoon, and Seonho. I found Dongho’s number—don’t ask me how—so I called him too.”

            “Jaehwan-ah,” Minhyun whispered.

            “I know,” Jaehwan said, voice cracking. “I _know,_ I just. I’m your best friend, I’m allowed to be worried about things like this. Just. Call next time? Please?”

            “I promise,” Minhyun said quietly, forcing himself to meet his eyes. Jaehwan smiled.

            “I brought hot chocolate!” Sewoon said cheerfully. “I’m calling it Forgiveness Cocoa. Who wants to watch Frozen?”

            Minhyun accepted a mug and laid on the couch, expecting to hear Jaehwan’s equally cheerful agreement. When he didn’t, he frowned and looked up to see the two talking quietly.

            “Do you think he got laid?” Jaehwan whispered loudly.

            “I can hear you,” Minhyun said sourly.

            Sewoon regarded him in awe. “He didn’t say no.”

            “So who was it?” Jaehwan said excitedly. “I have thirty thousand won on corporate boy toy.”

            “I thought we were watching Frozen,” Minhyun whined into the pillow.

            Sewoon pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and handed them to Jaehwan, who smirked at Minhyun’s pained expression. He dragged himself up to peer at Sewoon. “Who did you bet on?”

            “Anyone other than Jonghyun,” Sewoon answered sadly, sipping from his mug. “I should’ve known the sexual tension wasn’t going to last out very long.”

_“Excuse me?”_

            Jaehwan grabbed the remote and switched on the television, bouncing excitedly. Minhyun watched him, and simply smiled, falling back into the couch.

            For once, it felt like things were going according to plan.

 

\--

 

FROM: HONG JISOO

SUBJECT: Christmas Party !!!

            Hey Jonghyun,

So I’ve pretty much organized everything for the party! Here’s the details, since you probably need them being the fancy schmancy branch manager and all!! Let me know if I need to tweak anything soon, since I have a wedding to attend this weekend! See you tomorrow!!!! :D

Regards,

Joshua Hong

 

Jonghyun read the email for what felt like the third time, and took another sip of coffee as if that would finally help him understand the weird symbols on his computer screen.

He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep, though he suspected it was a couple weeks ago. Jisung had taken to staying over at his apartment to monitor his habits, which Jonghyun couldn’t blame him for, but it was starting to feel like every day brought another disappointed frown.

“Jonghyun-ah!” Jisung had scolded him once, after he tried to pour cleaner into his mug. “You can’t just not sleep and expect to function, you numbskull!”

Instead of being truly disappointed in himself and inspired to change, Jonghyun’s slowly deteriorating mind had begun to think about how numbskull was both a rare and out of fashion insult these days. Needless to say, he hadn’t gotten much more sleep after that.

“Jonghyun!”

Jonghyun looked up to see Minhyun staring at horror at his desk. He looked down slowly, dread dripping down his spine.

“Did you just…” Minhyun took another breath and tried to start again. “Did you just drink your coffee upside down?” The last vestiges of the coffee stained the edge of his desk a fading caramel color, and Jonghyun observed how it clumped together in droplets on the varnished wood. The droplets swirled against the lighter brown of the desk in an almost mesmerizing manner. “Jonghyun! Jonghyun!”

His head snapped up and he blinked once in confusion. “What?”

Minhyun sighed. “Go _home,_ Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun scoffed and waved a dismissive hand that was far too shaky to be reassuring. “I’m _fine.”_

“Right,” Minhyun replied sarcastically, already starting to clean up the mess with a paper towel roll retrieved from the void. “Because that’s why you look like the puffy white thing from that Disney movie.”

“Don’t be racist,” Jonghyun said.

“I was talking about Baymax,” Minhyun replied, before tossing the wad in the trashcan and sliding onto his desk. He used the tips of his fingers to bring Jonghyun’s head up from where he was still staring at the computer screen.

Jonghyun allowed him to, blinking once at his blurry form. “What?”

The homunculus sighed. “I’ll call Jisung.”

Jonghyun scowled. “You wouldn’t.”

“I _would.”_ He leaned forward and peered at the email. “I’ll figure this out.”

“And how would you do that?” Jonghyun said crossly.

Minhyun laughed. “You forget I have emergency access to all your records. And I think this qualifies as an emergency.” Jonghyun frowned again and didn’t say anything more. Minhyun tilted his head up again, softer, before he glanced at the computer screen and crossed his arms. “Is there anything I should know about?”

Jonghyun leaned back in the chair and deflated. “My ex is coming to the Christmas party. From the branch I used to work at. And we didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

Minhyun smiled fleetingly, and it was genuine. “If it bothers you enough, I’ll keep him away. I owe you, after all.”

“Keep him away?” Jonghyun asked, shaking his head slightly to clear it.

“Dumbass,” he replied, lips quirking up crookedly. “What’s a fake boyfriend for?”

 

\--

 

            Jisung arrived twenty minutes later, dressed in a worn flannel and jeans with his cellphone sandwiched between one ear and his shoulder. He glared at Jonghyun and wagged his finger towards him. Jonghyun frowned and shook his head, at which point Jisung aggressively whisper mouthed something that sounded like, “Do you want me to embarrass you in front of all your employees?”

            This seemed to sober Jonghyun a bit, and he allowed Minhyun to help him to the door. Frankly, it didn’t seem as though many would notice. The interns were somewhere doing God knows what, and everyone else had their eyes glued to their computers, which was rare in an office of unmotivated twenty something college dropouts and the like.

            Minhyun waved a final goodbye to the pair and walked over to Nayoung’s desk, maneuvering his head to sneak a peek of what she was watching before she snapped it closed. This time, surprisingly, it was _not_ lesbian porn.

            He raised his eyebrows. “What the fuck was that?”

            “No swearing in the office,” Nayoung replied with little anger before taking another sip of her coffee. “And honestly? I’m not sure. Joshua’s boyfriend sent it out using his email a couple minutes ago. I don’t think he asked for permission.”

            Minhyun blinked at the blurry video. “Is that… Troublemaker?”

            “Yes,” Nayoung answered sadly. “But the real question is: Who _are_ they?”

            Minhyun could discern Joshua’s lanky figure in the video quite easily, though it seemed like it was from a couple years ago. The other man was a bit taller, with a slight slouch. His dark hair obscured most of his face, and what Minhyun could make out was grainy and under saturated.

            A strangled noise sounded in the office and Minhyun looked up as Joshua climbed on top of his desk. “Please,” he said, attempting to smooth his voice. “Please delete the video.”

            At this, Jihoon only grinned. “Why?”

            Joshua’s eyes widened in horror, even though they’d all known in their hearts that a courteous plea wasn’t enough to convince Jihoon. Minhyun frowned. “Delete it or I tell Jonghyun.”

            Jihoon clucked scornfully. “I knew you’d tattle tale to your boyfriend.”

            “There are so many things wrong with that sentence,” he replied before drawing himself up and walking back towards Jonghyun’s office. He thought briefly to clarify that they weren’t dating, but in light of the upcoming party, it was best to leave it.

            Minhyun hummed while going through Jonghyun’s unread emails, attempting to respond with Jonghyun Brand Replies. One of them was addressed a bit more informally than the others.

 

FROM: CHOI MINKI

SUBJECT: NONE

i have to coordinate a bunch of shit w ur branch and mine and also we’re probably going to talk at the party anyway… what i’m trying to say is even though you pretty much hate my guts lol don’t be a stranger? for the sake of our jobs if anything –minki

 

            Minhyun frowned. There was nothing about the email that was inherently malicious but it left a bad taste in his mouth.

            Fortunately, that was the last time he thought of Minki until the party. Unfortunately, that was when things went wrong.

 

\--

 

            Jonghyun fingered the edge of his reindeer tie, wondering how tight he’d have to have it before he lost blood flow to his head and had a reason to skip out on the party.

            Under Jisung’s careful watch, he’d managed to get a passable amount of sleep in the nights leading up to the party, but his workload never seemed to cease. Minhyun often split it with him, out of some sense of altruism or pity, but Jonghyun was too tired to discern which one it was.

            These days, it felt like his past was running up to meet him where he was. A tortoise and a hare, he’d taken a second to breathe and now he was being outpaced. There was something wondrous and frightening about that—there was the hope of making peace with his sins and the fear of seeing what solace he had now crumble to ashes.

            He _really_ didn’t want to go to this party.

            “Hey.”

            Jonghyun glanced up. He’d come over to Minhyun’s to get ready, since he’d never told him where he lived. He’d do it soon—just not now. Minhyun was dressed in an ugly sweater cardigan and a button up over jeans. He eyed his reindeer tie with disdain, and Jonghyun scowled. “It’s cute. Homely, even.”

            “Whatever you say,” he replied breezily. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. I’m going to clean out the oven.”

            Jonghyun leaned back against the bed, the springs creaking slightly under his weight. Something in him told him to run, to leave while he still could. But he was tired of that—tired of the ever constant unease in the pit of his stomach.

            What was the worst that could happen?

 

\--

 

            From what Joshua had told Minhyun, it wasn’t exactly a party as much as it was a holiday get together. But those tended to be long and peaceful, while this one was probably going to end in burning alcohol bottles and screaming. Still, Minhyun had to respect the considerable time and effort that Joshua had put into it.

            He’d gotten out of the taxi first as Jonghyun and Aron had begun to discuss, of all things, the history of bowling. They were fairly late, and the only thing that let Minhyun know they were in the right place were the copious streamers strewn from the fairy lights and the huge banner plastered across the front of the house they’d rented. It read out, PLEDIS PAPER CO. CHRISTMAS BASH!!!!! in red and green font and glitter.

            “What are you looking at?” Jonghyun said from behind him and he flinched slightly before turning around and smiling.

            “Guess I’m rubbing off on you.”

            Jonghyun cocked his head in confusion for a second before realizing and smirking. “Guess you are.”

            There was a beat of silence, then, and Minhyun opened his mouth to bridge it, but Jonghyun had already walked past him and towards the door. He glanced back. “Coming?”

            Minhyun turned and took his outstretched hand. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

            Inside, the party had started.

            It was a cacophony, and yet calm. Comparing it to the mess from Sungwoon’s apartment months ago was nonsensical. This was closer to one of the company dinners, except with unnecessary strobe lights and a karaoke machine set up. Somewhere between the path and the door, Jonghyun had slipped behind Minhyun and the sharp inhale of breath, almost painful to his ears, made him flinch.

            The man walking towards them was around their age, and attractive in a sharp way that unsettled Minhyun. He was dressed in a simple embellished red sweater and Santa hat with bells at the end that jingled as he walked. He smiled at Minhyun but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hi! Joshua’s out getting extra ice, so I’ll have to welcome you in for now. I’m—“

            Jonghyun stepped out from beside Minhyun. His gaze was glued on a crack in the wood floor, and he brought up his eyes slowly to meet the other’s, though there was something unfocused about it that set Minhyun adrift. He took Jonghyun’s hand out of habit, out of something deeper, and squeezed.

            He steadied. “It’s been a long time, Minki-yah.”

            The other man, Minki, smiled again, and it did reach his eyes this time, but there was something rueful about it. “It has.” He worried his lip as if meaning to say something more, but Minhyun interrupted him.

            “I know you!”

            Minki raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure we’ve never met. I don’t even know who you are.”

            Minhyun’s opinion of the other man was dropping by the second, but he forced himself to place the distant memory. “You’re…”

            “I’m…” Minki tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and glanced behind him as if bored by the conversation. “If that’s all you have to say, I’m a busy man. I should get—“

            “You’re the Troublemaker kid!” Minhyun managed triumphantly. Jonghyun made a choking noise from behind him, and he patted him on the back. “Are you okay, Jonghyunie?”

            Minki seemed to be having a bad time of things. His eyes were darting in confusion. “The… Troublemaker… kid?”

            “Yeah,” Minhyun replied easily, grinning before slipping his hand around Jonghyun’s waist. He’d never believed himself malicious or petty, but a petty pang twisted around his lungs, suffocating him. There was no way he was allowing this guy to one up him. “Didn’t you dance with Joshua? I heard he has a boyfriend now.”

            Minki crossed his arms. “That was a year ago. Two years ago. That video shouldn’t exist. And who are _you_ to call me a kid?”

            Jonghyun shifted uneasily. “Let’s keep this civil—“

            “C’mon, babyface,” Minhyun scoffed. “You know you can’t trust people in the paper industry. This place is too dull to be safe.”

            “Babyface?” Jonghyun whispered in his ear, voice rising in alarm. “Minhyun-ah—“

            “I agree,” Minki said guardedly, before bringing up a hand in farewell and turning to go. “See you later, then, Jonghyun-ah.”

            The moment he disappeared Jonghyun hit Minhyun’s shoulder. “The fuck was that?”

            “A good performance,” Minhyun replied firmly, massaging his shoulder. “That _hurt.”_

“It was supposed to hurt,” he retorted sourly, but his eyes glittered in the dark. “This is a _company_ event, not a trip to the amusement park.”

            Minhyun stretched his arms, and glanced at the party, avoiding Jonghyun’s gaze. “I know.”

            “Then prove it,” Jonghyun replied, and there was something latent about it. Minhyun turned back to look at him, but he’d moved past him once again. A feeling akin to the regret that immediately precedes a mistake hung in the air, heavy like smoke. It reminded Minhyun of _that_ night, the one they never spoke about. It was nearly two months ago, now.

            He’d never expected anything from that night, and nothing came of it. Except this—every now and then, there would be something purely incendiary about Jonghyun, a spark that threatened to rip everything around him apart. It was beautiful, Minhyun thought, yet he was afraid of it. It was brief, though, usually, and within a second, the normal, stolid Jonghyun was back.

            “Minhyun?”

            Minhyun opened his eyes and looked down. He was still leaned against the side of the entryway, slumped in a way that suggested weariness. Even in the darkness, he could make out the figure in front of him, and he blinked. “Joshua?”

            He held up his bag of ice. “What did I miss?”

            “Your dance partner is an asshat,” Minhyun answered crossly.

            “Excuse me?” Joshua managed, the bag of ice almost slipping from his hand. He bent to retrieve it, glancing up in confusion. “Do you mean Minki? I thought I told you not to call him that!”

            Minhyun waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever he is.”

            Joshua laughed. “Try not to kill each other, please. I’m tired of cleaning blood out of this place. The interns have already gone at it twice.”

            “Who invited _them?”_ Minhyun whined.

            “The higher ups,” Joshua replied, rolling his eyes. “We’re supposed to set a good example for them. I’ll be taking this in! Refreshments are in the kitchen. Don’t kill Minki.”

            “I’ll try my best,” he said and wandered aimlessly into the main room of the cabin like building. A projector was playing How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Hansol was attempting to sketch out Jihoon’s face superimposed over the Grinch on his tablet while Seungkwan giggled and hit his arm. Every so often, Jihoon looked over suspiciously, but turned his attention back to the movie. Minhyun felt that this was probably something he ought to tell Joshua, but he’d cross that bridge when it inevitably burnt to pieces.

            “Hey, hyung.” Minhyun glanced over as Seokmin took a seat beside him. “This party’s boring.”

            Minhyun snorted. “Don’t let Joshua hear that. He worked really hard.”

            “Nah,” Seokmin said. “It’s cool in that way, I guess. It’s just too corporate for my taste.”

            “So?” Minhyun asked. “You’re not fulfilling your fate as an employee of Pledis Paper Co.? What was the internship for?”

            “I’m going to become a singer,” Seokmin replied casually. “But this place is good work experience.”

            He raised his eyebrows. “And _how_ exactly is it good work experience for a job in the music industry?”

            Seokmin shrugged. “There’s always a lot of drama. And you have to be on your toes with stuff like that in the entertainment industry. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

            “I see,” Minhyun said. He didn’t quite understand, but he knew that was the most sensible explanation he was getting out of him. “Is this your last year with us, then?”

            Seokmin scoffed. “Of course not. I’m not leaving this place until I make it big. It’s way too funny.”

            “I’ll take that as a compliment?”

            “You should,” he said cryptically. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down before Minhyun could question him further. “Mingyu says the cake is here! I’ll see you later, hyung.”

            Minhyun hummed a goodbye and leaned back into the couch. Seokmin was right—it was a rather dull party, but that was nothing new. As far as the yearly Christmas parties went, it was more a matter of formalities with the branch heads and boredom for everyone else. Which probably meant Jonghyun was getting chewed out by Seokhoon-ssi about now. He thought briefly about hunting him down and hanging around him awkwardly, or finding Minki and hanging around him annoyingly.

            He opted to do the latter. Minki was in the kitchen, frantically organizing a tray of holiday cookies onto an embellished plate. He looked up when Minhyun came in and dropped the plate, swearing as it shattered into pieces at his feet. Minhyun forced himself to lean against the oven and watch as he cleaned up, though every fiber of his being was telling him to help tidy up the little shards of porcelain.

            Minki looked up, no little amount of bitterness tinging his voice as he muttered, “So you’re not going to help?”

            Minhyun smiled, and it was a saccharine creature. “You want me to?” Before Minki could reply, he bent down and unceremoniously swept some of the shards into the dust tray he was holding. Minki swore again, as a piece cut his finger. Minhyun bit his lip in apology and offered another smile, just as insincere as the last. “Oops?”

            “Out!” Minki managed. “You’ve done enough.”

            “You’re welcome,” Minhyun answered before ducking back under the door, only to bump into Jonghyun on the other side.

            He looked up and arched an eyebrow. “I trust you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble?”

            “Of course,” Minhyun replied breathlessly, just as he caught the back end of Minki cursing him from the kitchen. He smiled apologetically. “How’s your evening been?”

            Jonghyun rolled his eyes. “Terrible. We’re a lot better than last year, that’s for sure. Yet Seokhoon-ssi has to nitpick absolutely everything! It’s irritating. And then…”

            Minhyun tuned him out, focusing on the tick of the clock, the way his tie was slightly loose. His voice was calming without being overt, and the burn at the bottom of Minhyun’s stomach began to dissipate.

            “Minhyun-ah?” Jonghyun called, tapping him slightly. Minhyun startled and looked over. Amusement and fondness mingled in Jonghyun’s gaze. “Dinner’s in a couple minutes.”

            He roused himself. “Yeah, you’re right.”

            It was less a dinner than it was people wandering around and chatting while eating. Minki had taken it upon himself to dole out the drinks while Joshua was working on the food. Minhyun was accepting a slice of pizza from Joshua when Minki handed him a can of beer. Minhyun smiled tightly and opened his mouth to reply, but Jonghyun beat him to it. “You don’t drink, right?”

            Minki cocked his head, and handed him a water bottle. “You don’t?”

            “No,” Minhyun said slowly, accepting the cold plastic. Minki made a hmph sound, and handed Jonghyun his beer can.

            As they made their way back to the living room, Jonghyun grinned smugly. “Now _that’s_ a performance.”

            Minhyun snorted. “That’s nowhere near obvious enough.”

            “Doesn’t have to be obvious to work,” Jonghyun replied enigmatically before smirking. “Besides, I know Minki better than you.”

            “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Minhyun said, rolling his eyes again. “Why’d you two even break up?”

            Jonghyun turned his head away then, taking a sip of beer and swallowing before answering. “Reasons.”

            “What reasons?”

            “Pass.”

            Minhyun shook his head. “You know, they say mystery’s not hot anymore. Being vague about everything’s not going to get you laid.”

            “Is that right?” he asked, lips quirking up. “I’d have to disagree with that.”

            Minhyun reddened. “Asshole.”

            Jonghyun laughed. “You walked into that one.”

            He didn’t say anything more, but smiled and took a sip of his water.

 

\--

 

            Minhyun believed that the annual Pledis Paper Co. Christmas Party could be defined in three stages: Awkward, Hungry, and Wasted.

            The third stage was always the worst.

            The interns were completely and utterly beyond saving. Chan was attempting to form his own religion, Seungkwan was crying about snakes and their lack of limbs, and Hansol was writing and meaning to deliver a speech on the importance of the legalization of marijuana.

            The out of town employees had long since left, and now it was only the locals and branch heads. Nayoung was peering at something on her phone intensely, and Jieqiong was trying to take a nap on her lap. Jihoon… well, he was missing. Minhyun was pretty sure that was Minghao’s fault, but he, Mingyu, and Seokmin, were also missing. Minhyun thought that that was probably for the better.

            The branch heads, Jonghyun excluded, were thoroughly smashed. Minki excluded, they'd formed a circle the middle of the main room, and were beginning to play spin the bottle with an empty soju bottle.

            Jonghyun, viewing the scene with a kind of unfocused nostalgia, was the sober side of tipsy at this point, despite the empty cans near his side of the couch. Minhyun sighed and gathered them in his hands before leaving for the kitchen. It was hard being the only sober person left.

            He dumped them all into the trashcan and washed his hands in the sink. The striped clock on the edge of the window read out 10:47. When he returned, Jonghyun and a couple of the others had left, only leaving behind the older heads and employees. Something about this unsettled Minhyun, but he wandered around the house in search of them, or Jonghyun, at least.

            He did have a job to complete.

            Minhyun thought a lot about hypotheticals, about what would’ve happened if he’d never moved to Seoul, if he’d never met Jisung, or Jaehwan, or finished high school. Sometimes he felt as though the life he was living was a twig, a nearly dead offshoot of a huge winding tree of the lives he could’ve lived. The mistakes, and the successes, simply reduced to a set of paths twisting out from his conception.

            Right now, he thought about who he’d be if he’d never met Jonghyun.

            He couldn’t quite pinpoint the effect Jonghyun had had on his life. It was cumulative, a build up of minute changes in every day routines. He felt different, not quite new, not quite lost, not quite as weary as he used to be and not quite as alive as he once was. It was less the addition of something alien and more the discovery of something vital, the filling of a cavity, the removal of an absence so old that it had nearly disappeared.

            Minhyun didn’t want to lose this.

            It was a frighteningly intrusive thought, and yet something he’d known all along. It was an affirmation he never asked for, a realization that he wanted to shove back in the closet. Because, excluding Jaehwan, the one person who would never leave, he never let himself do this. There was a thin line between caring for someone and wanting them to stay. Minhyun knew that the more you wanted someone to stay the less it was likely that they did. He knew that it was so much easier to not ask them to stay at all.

            He knew it was so much easier not to care.

            Except it wasn’t, sometimes. If you weren’t careful.

            He’d always thought himself careful. But perhaps he was just another fool in a world of them.

            “Minhyun?” The voice was muffled, and Minhyun looked up, head cocked in confusion.

            He was a couple inches from the sliding glass door. Outside, the patio was clear except for discarded alcohol bottles and the missing group from before. Beyond them, snow carpeted the edge of the lawn.

            At Minhyun’s hesitance, Jonghyun got up to unlock the door, and the cold air flooded in, stinging his skin slightly, but he was still paralyzed by the poignancy of it all.

            “Minhyun-ah,” Jonghyun repeated, taking his wrist gently. The warmth was shocking and he blinked once in an attempt to focus himself. Jonghyun watched him carefully. “Did someone spike your drink again?”

            It was a washed out attempt at humor, vain but admirable. Minhyun offered him an equally washed out smile, and the wind bit at his skin. “Unfortunately, no. What’s happening here?”

            Jonghyun rolled back his shoulders and looked back once at the revelries before answering. “Spin the bottle, but a younger version. I can’t speak to its safety.”

            “That sounds promising,” he replied drily, and moved past Jonghyun onto the patio. There was a soft inhale from behind him, and then the door sliding closed again.

            “The couple… of the night… has arrived!” Jihoon announced drunkenly. He was slumped between the edge of a rusting lawn chair and the cement, hunched forward as to conserve his warmth. But at Minhyun’s arrival he lifted his can in a lonely toast. Wonwoo nudged him and handed him a glass of water, which he promptly ignored.

            Minki’s gaze was focused on the slowly emptying bottle of soju in front of him, but his lips twitched at Jihoon’s comment. He looked up and caught Minhyun’s eyes then, and he quickly looked away, taking a seat between Jonghyun and Kyungwon.

            The bottle was currently pointed towards Jieqiong. She frowned and spun it after taking a swig of her hot pink water bottle that Minhyun doubted carried water. It landed on Wonwoo before sliding to Nayoung. Minhyun could’ve sworn that Jieqiong sighed in relief. She leaned forward and pecked Nayoung on the lips before settling back into her spot. Nayoung frowned at the green bottle. “I’ve already g-gone like five times. Someone else go.”

            “I’ll go,” Minki spoke up. The edges of his words bled together, but his gaze was steady, fiery though it was. Something about it unsettled Minhyun, and he nudged himself into the side of Jonghyun’s chest for warmth and comfort.

            Minghao regarded them over the top of his reused soda bottle. “That’s gross.”

            Soonyoung cackled. “You’re just saying that because you’re a single, lonely bitch.”

            “Fuck you,” Minghao retorted.

            “Keep it civil,” Jonghyun drawled. There was something weary about him, something worn, and it tempered the heat loosely covering his words. The latter was magnetic, and Minhyun tried again to quell the twist in his stomach.

            Minki looked around once and leaned forward and spun the bottle, fingers steady even as his eyes flit around.

            The bottle began to slow near Jonghyun, and Minhyun leaned forward to tidy a fallen can right before it stopped, nudging it a couple more inches towards Joshua. Minhyun couldn’t read his features under the shadow of the awning, but his expression was clear as he moved forward to kiss Joshua chastely on the cheek. Joshua rubbed the cheek sullenly. “I have a boyfriend.”

            “We know,” Wonwoo assured him. “We really, truly know.”

            Joshua hit his shoulder and rocked back to his spot. “Do I have to go again?”

            “That’s how the game works,” Nayoung slurred from behind her phone.

            “Does anyone else want to go?” Jieqiong piped up. “If you’re not comfortable, that is.”

            “I’ll go,” Minhyun said. Eleven pairs of eyes turned to look at him. The pressure of this was beginning to set in, and he wondered if it was too late to back out and take a nap on the cement. But a job was a job, and he would not let Joshua out-boyfriend him.

            Minhyun crawled forward and spun the bottle hard before leaning back onto his knees. It went around, once, twice, before slowing near Jihoon and moving past Joshua. Jonghyun looked down at the bottle and then up at Minhyun.

            “Do we have to do this?” he asked, head cocked. His voice was careless and yet tailored to be so, and Minhyun could feel Minki’s gaze on his face as he turned to answer him.

            “Why not?” Minhyun replied. “We are couple of the night, after all.”

            The edges of Jonghyun’s lips quirked up. “I can’t argue with that.”

            Minhyun leaned forward, and it was different. A million little puzzle pieces organized into a masterpiece, his last breath caught in his throat, the taste of water and old cigar smoke on the back of his tongue. Validation and fear and regret mingled in the periphery of his thinking and he flattened them until all that remained was this single moment. It was frighteningly reminiscent of that forbidden, forgotten night.

            It wasn’t a long kiss, nor was it chaste.

            There was some scattered overdramatic wolf whistles as Minhyun pulled back, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Jonghyun. He seemed slightly undone, somewhere between solace and faint rue. His hair was slightly messy, either from the kiss or the breeze, and Minhyun leaned forward to push it behind his ear.

            Jonghyun tilted his head in a question, but Minhyun didn’t answer it. It was a job, yes, but there was something to be said about how far one should go for the sake of a favor. This was something more than ‘I owe you’, it was more than a casual gift. It was dripping with danger and bad decisions, and Minhyun should’ve known the second he left the restaurant all those months ago that this was nothing meant to be permanent.

            But he couldn’t help but hope to keep what wasn’t his.

            The following cacophony was nearly deafening in the cold night air. Minghao was loudly defending the importance of being single while Seokmin was clapping his hands and cheering. Jihoon was explaining the significance of the kiss to Minki, who seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else. Kyungwon was surreptitiously recording the entire incident while Jieqiong napped on Nayoung’s slumped shoulder.

            But it seemed to almost pass in slow motion for Minhyun. There was something raw and exciting and powerful in the air, in this, and he wanted to smile but his mouth tasted of cotton and iron and the vestiges of alcohol on Jonghyun’s lips.

            Some indeterminable amount of time later, Jonghyun tapped his shoulder, and leaned forward. “D’you wanna leave?”

            He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t know how to capture this sense of wrenching regret and anxiety in words.

            Minhyun said, “Sure.”

            Jonghyun nodded and put up a hand. “I’ll see you all tomorrow?”

            “Aye, aye, captain,” Mingyu said, putting two fingers to his forehead.

            “See you around, Minki,” Jonghyun added lightly.

            Minki looked up and smiled flatly. “See you around.”

            Outside, snow was beginning to fall harder. Flakes swirled around the edge of Minhyun’s vision. It was beautiful, but frightening.

            “Minhyun?” Jonghyun called. He’d stopped somewhere along the way, head tilted slightly up, a single hand outstretched as if this was the first snow he’d ever seen. Jonghyun moved closer and brushed the flakes off his cheeks. It burned cold and Minhyun brought his gaze down to face Jonghyun. He was smiling, but there was nothing careless in his eyes. “It’s midnight.”

            Minhyun blew out a breath, and it spiraled in the cold air. “Let’s go.”

           

\--

 

            Aron arrived a little bit later than he usually did, which was to be expected since it _was_ after midnight. Minhyun ducked into the car after Jonghyun, shutting the door behind him. The latter settled himself in and watched the dead city go by. His eyes were nearly fluttered shut, each blink slow and sluggish.

            Minhyun couldn’t focus on the scenery tonight. He felt lit from within, so similar to the night months ago and it was a shame, since he could never bring back what they’d chosen to leave behind. But he knew, he knew that he didn’t want to let this go. He didn’t _want_ to leave it behind and watch the days pass with regret. There was no point in hoping this would be permanent, he knew. But there was just as little hope in not trying.

            The air was strained—there was too much to be said and not enough being said, yet just the same, he knew Jonghyun knew. It was just a matter of what Minhyun did now. Jonghyun was an enigma; he taunted, he twisted, he lured one in, but never allowed himself past that. It was clever, but shockingly cruel.

            The car slowed to a stop in front of Minhyun’s apartment complex. Jonghyun pulled out his wallet, and Minhyun bit his tongue to keep from speaking. He never paid, Jonghyun never let him, and there was something so cutting about that. Their relationship was a labyrinth of thin threads, never touching but so close to collapse. It had been months, and even now, Minhyun couldn’t quite pinpoint who he was around him, who they were to each other.

            “Kids!” Minhyun looked back as he left the car. Aron had rolled down the screen and was frowning at them, albeit without much bite. “Take care of yourself! Use protection this time!”

            Minhyun involuntarily gasped, but Jonghyun cut in, “We used protection last time. Have a good night, Aron hyung.”

            Minhyun shut the door behind him, and couldn’t help but laugh on the trip up. “That was unexpected.”

            “Not really,” Jonghyun replied lightly. Minhyun flushed, but didn’t answer him. Their steps echoed in the stairwell; it was a strange sound, too large for life, magnified by the darkness of the night around them.

            Minhyun felt for his keys in his pocket and came up empty, but Jonghyun dangled them in his face before unlocking the door and opening it slowly. Minhyun followed him in, pulling off his coat and laying it on the edge of the couch.

            Jonghyun looked back at him, and he felt helpless. He’d never thought himself a fool, and yet here he was. There was something to be said about the regret he’d feel next morning, regardless of his next action.

            But he was tired of regretting what he was too afraid to do.

            Minhyun took Jonghyun’s wrist in his and pulled him close. Jonghyun watched him, eyes scraping across his face in an almost intrusive manner. He leaned close before Jonghyun placed his thumb on his lips, and it stung with cold.

            “I thought that that was a one time thing?” he whispered, and his voice shook despite the steadiness in his eyes.           

            Minhyun smiled against his finger, and it was humorless. “Are you falling in love with me, Jonghyun-ah?”

            He didn’t answer, but he returned his smile and pulled his thumb from Minhyun’s lips.

            This wasn’t like their first kiss, hurried and urgent and thick with saltwater and tears. This was something purposeful, a mistake twisted so long it had become a blessing. The stale air around them hung with the cold, but here, here there was warmth.

            Minhyun led this time, and his movements were careful and yet precarious, almost reflective of the precipitousness of the entire situation. Jonghyun shivered under his fingers, either from the cold or the warmth. It was delirium, that’s what it was. Something insane spun out of control through the hands of a fool.

            Even as Minhyun turned away, Jonghyun ran his hands over the curve of his shoulders as if drunk off of the image of him. When he looked back, he seemed lost within himself, eyes unfocused. But then he glanced at him, and it disappeared, leaving only a trace of a smile.

            It was different from last time. It was different, and yet Minhyun didn’t want it to stop any less. His heart stuttered in the cage of his chest, two words caught in his throat. He felt drunk, his consciousness completely untethered. The loss of control was almost frightening.

            After, there was something cold in the air. It was nearly alien, and yet Minhyun couldn’t quite place it. They fell asleep like that, two puzzle pieces never meant to touch and yet curled into each other. It had been borne of a bad decision, and it seemed fated to continue as one.

            But Minhyun didn’t care anymore. It was a fool’s endeavor, he was a fool—he knew it all. But he didn’t want to let it go, not yet.

           

\--

 

            The next morning, the air smelled faintly of melted ice and alcohol, and the warmth from the night before had dissipated quickly. Minhyun awoke to an indentation in the bed beside him.

            There was no note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave kudos and comments i THRIVE on them honestly... also leave stuff at my cc /daybreakmv or hmu on twt @ hwanguit :D i love talking w u guys


	8. and our blaze of glory turns ordinary overnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trouble in paradise? tw for mentions of drug use and alcohol use! title from sleeping at last's countdowns. i made a playlist for this one so listen [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/varsh-bear/playlist/3xqK5hlK1BeyO8Zle5iNBf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh... this is the SHORTEST chapter to date im sorry but honestly it was for stylistic reasons and even if i wasnt in a time crunch it'd probably be around this long :( also my next updates gna b a bit delayed bc i have finals coming up!!! im sure that this is going to leave u all wanting more tho im SORRY :D

_What am I doing?_

It was the only thought Jonghyun could seem to complete. His mind was a whirlwind of regrets and wishes and fears. He was a broken record, smashed against a wall until the shards glittered silver and black. He was always caught in a loop of his own sins, but he never seemed to be able to stop himself.

        Jonghyun couldn’t remember what day it was, and the blinds pulled shut on his motel room didn’t help with the time of day. Every second felt like déjà vu of years he’d thought he’d left behind, a life he’d thought he’d left behind.

        He couldn’t do this again. This life was built on pins and needles, a castle of cards so carelessly built that a single breath could push it down. A breath named Hwang Minhyun, he thought bitterly.

        It was not as if Jonghyun blamed Minhyun for this. It was more Jonghyun’s fault, as everything seemed to be. He orchestrated every fucking event, pulling strings like a demented puppet master and yet he had the gall to cry at the blood on his hands.

        No, it wasn’t Minhyun’s fault. But he would be the one who got hurt.

        It was days like this that reminded Jonghyun of the beginning, of who he used to be and the darkness that dug into his veins if he inhaled deeply enough. The room was too thick with smoke for him to see his hand if he put it up, and he watched the world around him pass in a haze. He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the vertigo and almost painful pang behind his ribcage. Someone—Jonghyun wasn’t sure of their name—called out a question, and he simply put up a hand in answer, not willing to come to terms with the reality of why he’d come here.

        He steadied himself on the way to the bathroom, and pushed the lights on with one outstretched hand. It was dingy at best, some unknown growth in the crook between the toilet and the shower and the mirror fuzzy with age. He observed himself bringing one shaking hand to the mirror and clearing it to look at himself, swallowing hard at the feeling of detachment overlaying it all.

        Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his lips were nearly colorless in the dim yellow light. He swore once, shocked at the movement of his mouth in the reflection. It reminded him of that day in Minhyun’s apartment so long ago, and the thought of Minhyun was sobering.

        _What am I doing?_

He was doing what he’d always done—finding something good, and then fucking it up.

—

        When he got back to the apartment, it was late, somewhere between late night and early morning. His motor skills were still slightly impaired, and he pulled the door open with a little too much force. It slammed against the wall of his apartment complex. It was a diminutive place, built to disappear into a bland landscape. Inside, the tinny sound of water running was audible, but it was only the broken pipes.

        Jisung was curled up on his couch, his phone sandwiched between his cheek and his shoulder. His eyelids were fluttered closed, the peace of that action contrasted with the circles ringing his eyes and the harsh twist of his mouth. The air was thin, and Jonghyun drew in a long breath only to feel just as lost as before.

        His keys jingled in his hand as he placed them on the stool and pulled off his jacket. Jisung stirred at the noise, and Jonghyun winced as he slipped into his bedroom. He tossed his phone on the bed after turning it on, busying himself so he didn’t have to see the messages and calls flood the screen.

        After a brief, scalding shower, he opened his laptop. Water dripped down the side of his neck, wetting the thin sheets. He knew the email address well enough, but bile still rose in his throat when he typed it out. Once it was done, he closed the tab and shut his laptop down before shoving it away from him and falling back on the bed.

        It wasn’t that he’d thought himself capable of change, not truly, but he was disappointed nonetheless.

—

        “Let’s get lunch.”

        “Pardon?” Minhyun asked, suddenly tuning back into the conversation.

        “You, Jonghyun, Jeonghan and I,” Dongho said amiably. “It’s been a long time.”

        _Jonghyun._ Minhyun hadn’t heard from him since the party. “I’ll ask him about it. How are you and Jeonghan doing?”

        Dongho sighed, but it was content. “It’s going well. He makes me happy.”

        “I’m happy for you,” Minhyun said, but his eyes were glued to the television. An ad was teasing the final episode of a drama—the one that they were supposed to finish together.

        “What about you and Jonghyun?” Dongho asked.

        Minhyun smiled at the screen. “He makes me happy too.”

        “You deserve someone like that,” Dongho replied, and his voice was soft.

        “Do I?” Minhyun responded absentmindedly. “I’ll see you later, Dongho-yah.”

        He hung up, and the dial tone echoed in the emptiness of the apartment. The thin line between being alone and loneliness had curled itself into a noose around his neck and now Minhyun could hardly breathe. His phone buzzed again, and he blinked in confusion.

        “Jonghyun?” he asked. A beat of silence, another ragged breath, and then his voice.

        “Minhyun.” It wasn’t an answer as much as it was a statement. It came as he always did, something more than his words, the glassy surface of an endlessly deep ocean.

        “Where have you been?” Minhyun asked, pulling himself up. “You’ve never been out this long.”

        Jonghyun didn’t answer, and the silence stretched out between them painfully. Finally, he asked, “What did I miss at work?”

        “You didn’t miss anything,” Minhyun replied.

        “Thanks,” Jonghyun said quietly. His voice sounded far away, thin and reedy in the near silence.

        “Are you…” Minhyun started. “Are you okay?”

        Another beat of silence and then, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

        Minhyun smiled. “That’s a relief.”

        He hung up then, and Minhyun switched off the television. That was the first lie Jonghyun ever told him.

—

        They decided to go out for lunch a couple weeks later. Winter was beginning to suffocate Seoul and Minhyun tightened his scarf around his neck.

        Jonghyun had been at work every day since, and frankly, nothing seemed to be wrong. It was as if his minor absence had been completely smoothed over. But sometimes, Minhyun caught him watching everything with a sense of cold nostalgia, eerie in its detachment.

        When Minhyun arrived at the restaurant, he realized it was the same place that they’d first gone to. Inside, the waitress, Kyla, took one look at him and grimaced. “Is your friend coming this time too?”

        Minhyun smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.”

        Kyla frowned and called, “Sungyeon unnie! This one’s yours.”

        Sungyeon smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Is this the entirety of your party?”

        Minhyun shook his head, glancing back at the white-carpeted landscape before answering. “No, there’re still three people coming.”

        “Two,” Jonghyun said from behind him, voice slightly breathless. Minhyun blinked and looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on Sungyeon. His cheeks were pink with cold. “Two more people.”

        “I see,” Sungyeon said. “Well, follow me anyway. I’m sure they can find you later.”

        They slid into the booth awkwardly. Jonghyun glanced at him. “What do you want to eat this time around?”

        Minhyun shrugged. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having. It’s Dongho’s turn to pay.”

        “You say this like it’s supposed to reassure me,” Jonghyun joked, flipping through the menu idly.

        Dongho arrived a couple minutes later, Jeonghan in tow. He sniffed as he gingerly took a seat. “The customer service here is abysmal.”

        “I’m pretty sure _that’s_ not the issue here,” Dongho muttered before smiling at them. “How have you two been!”

        They glanced at each other. Jonghyun’s eyes held a question, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Minhyun replied, “Good.”

        “Good to know our couple of the century is still solid,” Jeonghan said. “Who’s hungry?”

        The meal was relatively short, which surprised Minhyun. Considering Jeonghan’s manners, he was expecting an extra hour of wait time. He chalked up the quick service to saliva in Jeonghan’s salad. Nearing the end, Minhyun was ready to go home and take a nap, but Jeonghan was finishing his low fat chocolate cake and Jonghyun seemed in no hurry to leave.

        “Mm,” Jeonghan spoke up, pointing his fork at Jonghyun. He glanced up, and cocked his head in a silent question. “A little birdie told me you’re leaving Seoul.”

        Jonghyun’s expression smoothed with fluidity that unnerved Minhyun. His stomach bottomed out, but he couldn’t rip his eyes from him. “Really? Who?”

        Jeonghan laughed. “If I told you, then they wouldn’t be such a little birdie! But were they right? I like my informants to, you know, be informed.”

        Jonghyun took a sip of his drink before replying. “They’re right. I just got the notice from the heads last night. It’s nothing in my control, of course.”

        Dongho shifted in his chair before answering. His smile was sympathetic, but thin. “That’s a pity. We’ll all miss you.”

        Minhyun drew himself up, and there was a scraping noise as his fork hit the table. He forced his mouth into a smile, but it was nothing but a formality. “I need to use the restroom, sorry.”

        His legs moved of their own accord, and he nearly tripped over himself in his hurry. His lungs constricted painfully, each breath harder than the last. Minhyun locked the stall door behind him before he could breathe.

        Questions were running through his brain, but he couldn’t answer any of them. He felt pitifully helpless, watching himself fall to pieces and unable to pick himself back up.

        _Ask him to stay,_ some voice urged him, and he bit back a harsh laugh.

        It would be so easy to ask him to stay—but it would’ve been easier not to begin this at all.

—

        When Minhyun returned, there was something glassy about his eyes that sent a pang through Jonghyun’s chest. _This is for the better,_ he thought. But he didn’t believe himself.

        “Are you two going long distance?” Dongho asked, not unkindly and yet it held a biting note. Minhyun looked at him, and there was a question in his eyes—a question, an accusation, a plea—and Jonghyun couldn’t bear it.

        “Of course,” he said, and he was breathless for some reason. Minhyun turned his gaze away from him and aimlessly stirred his water.

        “Long distance is hard,” Jeonghan spoke up, looking up from his phone. “If there’s no trust, then it falls apart.”

        Dongho hit his shoulder and smiled at them. “I’m sure you two will do fine. When are you leaving?”

        “Next Monday,” Jonghyun replied, glancing at Minhyun involuntarily. He didn’t look up from his phone.

        Minhyun typed something out rapidly, and watched for the response. A couple seconds later, he switched it off and slid it back into his pocket. He looked up and smiled at the other couple, offering Jonghyun a cursory glance. “Something’s come up. I’ll see you all later?”

        After the chorus of farewells, Minhyun slid out of the booth and walked out of the restaurant. Jonghyun couldn’t pull his eyes away from him, some dark mixture of regret and fear rising in his throat.

        “Well.” Dongho said. Jonghyun looked back at him, but he was staring at the empty spot beside him. When he locked eyes with him, his gaze was steely. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Jonghyun-ah.”

        Jonghyun opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Finally, he said, “I hope so, too.”

—

       

        When Minhyun got home that night, there was an email from Joshua.

FROM: HONG JISOO

SUBJECT: JONGHYUN’S FAREWELL PARTY!!!!!

        Hello all,

        So since our Jonghyun is leaving for Busan next Monday, I was thinking we should have a party to celebrate all that he’s done for us! It’s a bit last minute, but he said that he’ll be packing all weekend, so let’s have it tomorrow! I’ll leave a link for sign ups, everyone please try to bring at least one thing! Let’s have a good time and send him off well!!!!!!

        Regards,

        Joshua Hong

        Usually, Minhyun found his overuse of exclamation marks endearing, but right now it gave him a headache. He put himself down for plastic cups before closing the laptop and placing it on his collapsed table. He laid down on his couch, unaware that Jaehwan had walked in until he tentatively put his hand against Minhyun’s forehead.

        “You’re not sick,” he said, frowning. Minhyun blinked at him, too sluggish to form a response. He folded his arms. “What’s wrong?”

        Minhyun shook his head and returned to staring at the ceiling. Jaehwan sighed and laid down next to him, poking him in the side until he looked over. He repeated, “What’s wrong?”

        Minhyun looked back up. “I got attached.”

        “Relatable,” Jaehwan replied. “What’s the issue?”

        He scowled. “I got attached and he’s _leaving._ That’s the issue.”

        “Jonghyun?” Minhyun grunted in agreement and Jaehwan blew out a sigh. “Is he leaving because of you?”

        Minhyun shrugged. “I don’t think so. But it’s next Monday.”

        He whistled. “That’s cutting it close. But it’s nothing in your control, right?”

        “Yeah,” he whispered.

        They laid in companionable silence for a bit, and then Jaehwan said, “You could always ask him to stay.”

        Minhyun smiled but there was no humor in it. “He wouldn’t stay for me.”

        “I would stay for you,” Jaehwan cut in. “Don’t half ass this. Don’t break your own heart.”

        “It’s his job, or me,” Minhyun said hopelessly. “I’m nothing worth staying behind for. Not to him.”

        Jaehwan exhaled, and took Minhyun’s hand in his, rubbing circles on his palm with his thumb. “I know you won't listen to me about this but... Well, just think about it.”

       

—

        The next day, Minhyun came in to work two hours late. The blinds on Jonghyun’s office were pulled shut, and Joshua was hanging streamers from the office lights. Minghao and Soonyoung were arguing about decorations, and the interns were missing, excluding Hansol, who was taking a nap behind the paper crates.

        “You’re late,” Nayoung said, when he settled in. A note of surprise was evident in her voice. “You haven’t been late in a while. I thought you might get employee of the year.”

        “Change is a façade,” Minhyun said gloomily as he pulled out his plastic cups. “We’re all fated to return to who we used to be.”

        “I see,” Nayoung replied, eyes still glued to her screen. “I brought napkins if you want to cry. Jieqiong says my shoulder is good to cry on.”

        Minhyun doubted Jieqiong’s reliability on this matter, but he said, “I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks. Where’s Jonghyun?”

        Nayoung shrugged. “He hasn’t been out all morning. It must be messy to tie up all his loose threads in less than a week. They really should’ve given him more time to prepare for this.”

        Minhyun glanced back at the shut door, the closed blinds. He didn’t end up coming out the entire morning. At half past noon, Minhyun went up and heated up ramen. He knocked on the door carefully. There was no response, so he knocked again. The second time around, a soft ‘come in’ sounded from inside.

        There was nothing detectably _wrong_ about Jonghyun’s expression, but Minhyun’s chest expanded uncomfortably as he placed the bowl on his desk and took a seat beside him. Jonghyun looked up, then, little recognition nor surprise visible in his eyes. Minhyun cleared his throat. “Have you eaten yet?”

        Jonghyun shook his head, and finished typing something out before cracking his fingers. “I’m not very hungry.”

        Minhyun couldn’t help but scoff. “Like that’s a proper excuse.”

        Jonghyun didn’t answer. His fingers moved with purpose, but there was a slight tremor in their movements. Minhyun nudged the bowl closer to him and Jonghyun glanced at it again. “I’ll eat it, if you want.”

        “Promise?”

        “Promise.”

        That was the second lie Jonghyun told him.

—

        After hours of painstaking work on Joshua’s part and vague disinterest on everyone else’s, setup for the party was finally done. Minhyun glanced at the clock – it was nearing six, and he’d barely done anything the entire day. But he’d leave his rotting self-discipline for the next manager to fix.

        Joshua knocked on Jonghyun’s door. “When do you want to get the party started?”

        “Please never say those words in that order ever again,” Jihoon said.

        Joshua crossed his arms. “You’re just upset again because I said I have more swag than you.”

        Minghao whistled. “I’m going to have to wash out my ears with bleach. Anyone want some?”

        “I’ll take a cup,” Jihoon called.

        Jonghyun opened the door and poked his head out. “No.”

        After this, he shut the door again, leaving everyone staring at the spot that he had just vacated. Minghao sat down and Jihoon switched on his laptop again. Joshua took a tentative seat and pulled out his phone.

        Some thirty minutes after that, a knock came at the door to their floor. An aggravated looking delivery man, or rather a delivery boy, was carrying a larger than life cake in his barely capable hands. His name tag read out Ahn Hyungseob in embellished black block letters.

        Minhyun helped him place it onto the large table they’d centered amidst the cubicles. It slid onto the surface precariously, and the boy exhaled a long sigh of relief when it was out of his hands. He patted his hands on his pants and pulled the receipt from his pocket before rattling off the order. “One super deluxe chocolate vanilla ice cream cake for a Hong Jisoo?”

        Joshua smiled and handed him the money. “Have a nice day!”

        The boy muttered something like ‘now that this is done I will’ and left quickly. Joshua looked at the cake sadly. “It’s going to melt soon, but I don’t want to anger him. It’s his last day, you know?”

        “A relatable sentiment,” Wonwoo agreed.

        “If only we had someone who could convince him to leave without treading on his toes,” Kyungwon added gloomily.

        “If only,” Nayoung repeated, staring at Minhyun.

        “Why are you looking at me?” he asked, as everyone began to turn their gazes toward him. “Why _me?”_

“Because he thinks the sun shines out of your perfect ass,” Jihoon replied without looking up from his computer.

        Minhyun scoffed. “Really—“

        “Pretty much,” Soonyoung agreed.

        “Well put,” Jieqiong said.

        Minhyun scowled before turning towards Jonghyun’s office. “I hate all of you.”

        Joshua smiled at him. “Thank you!”

        Minhyun opened the door to find Jonghyun packing up. He looked up and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “This place isn’t soundproof, you know.”

        “Oh,” Minhyun said. “Sorry?”

        Jonghyun shrugged. “I was just about done anyway. The cake sounds good.”

        “It does,” Minhyun said. Words seemed to stick in his throat, but he swallowed and shut the door behind him.

        Jonghyun came out a couple minutes later, a smile plastered on his face. Minhyun watched the festivities pass in a daze, as Jonghyun went around one by one and talked to every employee and intern. By the time he got to Minhyun, the cake was decimated, and the sun had long since set.

        “Do you all really think we’re a thing?” Minhyun asked Nayoung offhandedly. She’d turned off her computer for once, and was watching the party with him, chewing on her cake thoughtfully.

        “Aren’t you?” she asked, turning to look at him.

        Minhyun’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know.”

        “Oh,” she replied. “Well, I don’t know much about relationships. But if all you need is mutual interest and affection, then yeah, I do think you’re a thing, as you put it.”

        “Thanks,” Minhyun said dejectedly, poking at his cake. “That’s nice of you to say.”

        “Not really,” she said, taking another bite.

        Minhyun opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, but Jonghyun’s voice appeared from beside him. “Minhyun?”

        “Who’s videotaping this time?” Kyungwon whispered to Jieqiong, and she hit her shoulder.

        Minhyun glanced up at Jonghyun, and his eyes were glittering with mirth. There was something nostalgic and beautiful about that, and Minhyun suddenly longed for a time he didn’t know he’d left.

        “You wanna go somewhere private?” Jonghyun asked in a low voice, and Minhyun nodded.

        They decided on the hall between the office room and the elevator. It was dim, the only source of light the old light bulbs of the elevator and the moonlight streaming through the half open window. The cold winter air and stale, stagnant air of the hall mixed uncomfortably.

        Minhyun leaned against the windowsill. “I bet they’re still recording us.”

        Jonghyun grinned, but it was too sharp. “Like we could truly get away from them.”

        Minhyun sighed. “Is this real to you?”

        Jonghyun stilled, but his eyes were fixed on the lights of Seoul. “What defines real?”

        He tilted his head, and the breeze tousled his hair slightly. “Genuine. Something worth holding onto.”

        “It’s a fake relationship, Minhyun-ah,” Jonghyun replied, and his voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible.

        “That’s not what I mean,” he responded.

        Jonghyun exhaled, and it spiraled in the dry air. Snowfall was near, and there was something carefully restrained about the dark of the night, like a breath held so long it hurt. He turned to look at him then, and his eyes were dark, but unreadable. “Is there anything you want to say, Minhyun?”

        Minhyun’s heart stopped for a split second, and he forced himself to look away. What he wanted to say—that was something he could never possibly say. There was something so unspeakable about it, something so sacred about it. It demanded trust—it demanded intimacy, and a level of commitment that made Minhyun’s chest constrict.

        He wanted to say, _I don’t want you to go yet._

He wanted to say, _This isn’t fake._

He wanted to say, _Stay._

He said, “It’s not… It’s not important. But promise me one thing.”

        Jonghyun nodded, but his eyes were unfocused. “Sure.”

        “Take care of yourself,” Minhyun said, and his voice was barely more than a whisper. Jonghyun was turned away, and half his face was cast in moonlight, the other in shadow.

        A beat of silence passed, and then: “I will.”

        That was the third lie Jonghyun told him.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof right. anyway PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS AND KUDOOOOS they make me so happy :) also leave smth at [my cc](https://curiouscat.me/daybreakmv) and hmu at [hwanguIt](https://twitter.com/hwanguIt)


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